(Thank you for) Being There
by 3431jess
Summary: There's always been something between Felicity and Oliver, a complicated relationship status of some sort. They were more than friends but not quite a couple. When the trial for William's custody intensified and Oliver was almost certain he would lose the battle, Felicity boldly came to his rescue, even when it involved surrendering her 'Smoak' surname.
1. Chapter 1

" _What was that for?" he questioned her right after their lips parted._

" _Just in case…"_

" _We're going to make it through this."_

" _You can't know that for sure." Her voice trembled, "I didn't want to regret not kissing you. When it comes to the two of us - regret enough as it is."_

It had only been a couple of days since their return from Lian Yu. That morning, Felicity woke up in her plush oversized king bed, tucked under the thick, comfortable duvet. The taste of Oliver's kiss still lingered on her lips. She remembered his haunting blue eyes that held so much hope…. and his smile…

" _We'll discuss this when we're off the island."_

A year before, on the same bed, she and Oliver used to lay and talk about their future plans. Then life happened. She learned about his son William, and she ended their engagement. They had remained good friends, but both of them moved on with their lives. She met Billy and Oliver met Susan. Another twist happened, and both of them ended up single again. Then before she knew it, she was on Lian Yu, kissing Oliver and telling him earnestly that there was already enough regret between them.

Unlike her many other failed relationships, their connection was interweaved closely with friendship. They had spent years weathering many trials together before she had even considered him as something more. And during the course of time, he'd let her see beneath his public mask, the side of him which many people seldom see. Felicity had seen Oliver both emboldened and vulnerable; cheerful and broken-hearted. He had confided his darkest secret and told her his worst nightmare. She had seen the real Oliver Queen and what kind of man he truly was.

Now that they had escaped from the island, she wondered when exactly _that_ conversation would take place - not that she had encouraged it. She wasn't sure that she was ready to confront the truth, especially considering the repercussions of William's presence in their lives. The news of the illegitimate child of the Mayor who was kidnapped by city's attorney flooded the media. Oliver's days had been filled with press conferences, preparing statements for the police, and taking care of William, all at the same time. He had a lot on his plate. Any one of these things would have been a valid reason to postpone a discussion about their _complicated_ relationship.

One particular conversation with her mom during the period she was dating Ray Palmer, surfaced in her memory.

 _"What's wrong with me. Ray is brilliant. He knows the plot of every Doctor Who episodes - all 34 seasons. He looks like a Disney Prince…. I mean - He is practically the perfect man," she told Donna._

 _After her billionaire hunk boyfriend had escaped imminent brain damage, the CEO of Palmer Tech had taken the opportunity to confess his unconditional love to her._ _Felicity should've been thrilled. She should've been rushing out of Ray's hospital room dancing the Macarena or some other happy dance when she broke the news to her mom. But instead, she felt nervous and guilty._

" _You don't love Ray because you are in love with Oliver," her mom countered knowingly._

" _You don't even know Oliver, Mom," Felicity scoffed softly. "You've met him like for ten seconds."_

 _"I knew it in five," her mom smiled. "Honey, you lit up like Christmas when he walked into the room."_

 _Deep down Felicity knew this, but she didn't dare to admit - to herself, or to anyone else. She won't allow herself to hope, and to dream of something so unattainable._

 _"But he is…. terminally unavailable."_

Shaking off the bitter nostalgia, Felicity ran her hands over her face as she made her way into the bathroom. Her throat was sore, and her head throbbed with pain.

"Darn flu," she cursed under her breath.

Once in the bathroom, she grabbed her cup and took one experimental sip. The water stung as she swallowed. The subsequent mouthful was better. After a few rejuvenating gulp and taking a few Tylenol and a spoon of Benadryl, she turned towards the mirror, catching the reflection of her tired, pallid face. Her hair piled haphazardly with looming dark circle under her eyes to complete the look. She thought she saw the ghost of her mom after a night of binge drinking at the casino. No, even her hangover-mom would look better than this in the morning.

But, she couldn't rest and recover from the flu when her mind was reeling. The dream from the island kept recurring, coming back like stubborn plagues. Before the explosion, Slade had shepherded most of them into the A.R.G.U.S bunker where he had been held prisoner. Thea ran after Samantha, who was adamant that she couldn't abandon William. Diggle followed and found Thea just in time to return to the shelter. Samantha wasn't that fortunate.

Felicity had only recently begun to fully understand the emotional baggage the island had brought to Oliver's life. The trauma changed him and had emotionally crippled him for many years. The island was the origin of so many horrific things. She was glad that damned place was gone for good, hopefully never to haunt anyone again with bitter memories.

Right now, the team was all acclimating to their normal lives. For the most part, the rest of the team easily bounced back into their usual routines. Dinah, Rene, and Curtis were all already back to work in their respective jobs. The team had met in the bunker for the first time last night. Diggle struggled the most. Losing one arm in the climactic explosion meant that he could no longer fight as before. Regardless of Oliver's reassurance that Diggle would remain an indispensable part of the team - with arm or no arm - Diggle continued to be adamant that he was a hindrance - a liability for the team.

As for Thea, the memory of Malcolm Merlyn's selfless sacrifice affected her profoundly. On top of that, she couldn't help but to feel guilty witnessing Diggle's daily struggle after his debilitating injury. She felt responsible for his condition. While she was glad her nephew emerged from their Lian Yu episode relatively unscathed, a thick cloud of remorse still loomed over her. She had failed to save William's mother.

And Oliver - after Samantha's death - he had to shoulder the additional responsibility as William's sole parent. The Division of Social Services was in the process of reviewing the permanent custody arrangements, but for the time being, William was placed in Oliver's custody.

A loud, solid knock on the door down stair follow by a door bell snapped her from her stupor. Her clock indicated it was still 6 a.m in the morning. Who would visit her this unsociable hour in the morning? A few random scenarios ran through her head. Potential criminal activity? But thieves didn't normally knock. They would just barge in. Perhaps, Curtis had set Palmer's lab on fire?

Felicity frantically ran her fingers through her hair while descending the stairs, hoping it wasn't anyone from the team, the press or a police officer demanding another statement. She felt like princess Fiona from Shrek when she emerged as an ogre. Dying of embarrassment wasn't an option now, not after she survived being kidnapped by the psychotic Prometheus and escaped the fires of Lian Yu.

She opened the door and gasped loudly. Her mysterious visitors were worse than the sight of her colleagues or police officers. Outside the door stood a child and a gentleman with a black eye patch. Felicity's mouth went dry as if someone had just shoved an expensive Prada scarf down her sore throat.

"Hi Ms. Smoak," the man noted with a grin. "You seem surprised to see us."

Of course, seeing Slade Wilson, the man who killed Moira Queen and nearly took everything from Oliver was the last thing Felicity expected to see at this time of the morning - especially seeing him with William. Apparently, Oliver was crazy enough to entrust his son to a man that had killed his mother.

"I think you've officially ruined pirate Halloween costumes for me, Mr. Wilson," Felicity replied with a hint of sarcasm. She knew she'd been rude to remark on his physical traits, perhaps a drop of alcohol in her Benadryl had loosened her tongue. But again, considering what this man had done, he could tolerate one disparaging remark.

Instead of feeling insulted by Felicity's offensive joke, the man's smile grew even wider, "Shall I say _Arrrr… Miharty_?'"

Felicity crossed her arms and gave him the most vicious deadpan look, ignoring the boy in front of her who looked utterly puzzled by their interaction.

"You are surprisingly quiet for a nervous talker. Oliver told me you babble a lot."

"I'm not nervous!" Felicity snapped. Either Slade was ignoring the look of smoldering fury in her eyes, or he was genuinely oblivious, he just stood there and continued to smile.

When the man continued to grin, Felicity moved to slam the door shut in his face. He grabbed the handle to keep the door open. "Is that how you treat the man who saved you and your buddies' life from the fires of purgatory, Ms. Smoak?"

"On the second thought, I might have rather been an instant kebab."

"I believe the words you are looking for are _'thank'_ and ' _you_.'"

Felicity bristled. "Why are you doing here?" she did not ease her grip on the door handle.

"Oliver asked for your help to watch William for a little while," he said matter-of-factly.

Felicity sighed. She knew one of these days that Oliver would ask this favor, for her to babysit, but not this soon, and not when she was ill. She didn't possess any experience dealing with kids, safe it from admiring Diggle and Lyla's baby. And just to make her task a little bit harder, perhaps William also knew that she was his dad's former fiancé. Talk about awkward.

"I thought he knew that I am…-"

Slade raised his hand and interjected. "...That you came down with a cold? Yes, sure. But the situation in the bunker was a little bit… _graphic_ for a nine-year-old. So, he asked me to bring this fellow here to you."

Her stomach knotted on the word 'graphic.' She could feel the unpleasant taste of the medicine climbing up her throat. "What...what happened?"

"Nothing serious," Slade clarified calmly. "Your buddy - Mr. Terrific - wasn't so terrific when he mishandled his own gun and shot himself in the foot. Oliver and Diggle tried to patch him up in the bunker while Rene went out to get more medical supplies. Apparently, your friend is quite squeamish and has very low pain tolerance."

There was a good amount of derision in his manner. "Oliver couldn't mend him without local anesthesia, so Rene had to get some."

In a different situation, Felicity would have debated Slade's opinion. But right now, she just wanted the man to deposit William and leave as soon as possible.

"...but I'm afraid William had already witnessed half of the ordeal," Slade confirmed, looking at the boy who blanched at the recollection of the sight.

"Oh…" was the only thing she could say.

Acknowledging there was no introduction coming from Felicity, Slade put forward his hand towards her. "William, this is Ms. Felicity Smoak. She is an almighty tech girl and also your father ex…-"

"...personal assistant," Felicity jumped into the sentence and shot a murderous glare in his direction. "You can call me Felicity," she said, forcing a sweet smile at William. She pushed the door fully open and ushered the boy into the apartment. Slade followed quietly behind.

"Who said you were welcome to stay?" she seethed.

Again, Slade was undeterred by her reproach. "I've invited myself in," he said, grinning. "Besides, it looks as though you could do with a little bit of help, to prepare breakfast and all that. Right?"

Felicity groaned, but she knew Slade was right. There was no way she could entertain William single-handedly in her current condition.

 _Oliver, you are so dead!_

* * *

Note: this is my first Olicity fiction! The story is my take on what happened after the end of season 5.

Oliver was struggling to juggle his responsibility as the Mayor, the Green Arrow, and a Father. Meanwhile, Felicity contemplated whether she should bring up the question of their relationship back on the table. When the trial for William's custody intensified and Oliver was almost certain he would lose the battle, Slade came right in to offer a surprising solution. Future cross over with Flash.

Also, I am looking for a beta (I'm a non-English speaker, please forgive me for any grammatical slip-up.)

I normally post the snippet of my next chapter in Tumblr: user 3431jessica


	2. Chapter 2

Believing that Slade Wilson had a change of heart was like expecting someday Felicity Smoak - the geeky, bubbly daughter of a cocktail waitress - would someday become a billionaire who owned private jet and date a super attractive hunk. Stupidly preposterous? Maybe. Except that she was _now_ a CEO of Palmer Tech and had dated _three_ men with seriously delicious abs. Yes, _three_! Felicity began to doubt her logic. One was enough to warrant a pure coincidence, but three? _So what are the odds that Slade will repent?_

A sound of ceramic clatter broke her from her random reverie.

When she went downstairs she saw that Slade was perched next to the kitchen sink, cutting strawberries with military precision. A neat stack of evenly sized pancakes laid on the table, complete with a large plate of scrambled eggs, garlic bread, a jug of juice, and a bowl of Koko Krunch as an alternative. He grinned when he saw her descending the stairs and immediately invited everyone to gather around the breakfast counter - being completely comfortable as if this was _his_ house.

"Morning!" Slade addressed, but his eyes still trained to the chopping board. "You barely had anything in your fridge. I could only find pocket pizza, leftover Chow Mein and a tub of ice cream," he commented.

"What's wrong with ice cream for breakfast?" Felicity replied unsympathetically.

"No, nothing wrong. That's why I've made pancakes."

Felicity sat on the bar stool. "Where did you find the ingredients?" She knew there was no shop in the vicinity that was open at this time of day. After her few months under the same roof as Oliver, Felicity had resigned herself to the fact that she possessed no culinary artistry in her blood. Thus far, she had survived on take-out and ready-to-eat meals, there was never any need to stock _fancy_ ingredients to decorate her cabinet.

"I went downstairs and begged one of your nice neighbors," he explained.

Felicity barely knew the neighbor downstairs apart from the placard name on their letter box in the lobby. The wife must've been a housewife, often caught running after her three children, yelling three names that she remembered all started with 'O'. Her husband was a British man whose name also started with 'O', owned a black Ferrari the same model that Oliver had owned years ago. Felicity recalled eavesdropping on him talking on the intercom to the security guard in the carpark, and the man's speech and mannerisms reminded her of David Attenborough narrating The Planet Earth.

"You asked for all _this_?" Felicity eyed him skeptically, pointing towards the generous spread of breakfast. "Did the _begging_ involve any sharp object on the throat?"

Slade grinned. "I'm sure you'll hear about it soon enough."

The man busied himself for another five minutes before everything laid nicely on the table.

"Bon Appetit!" Slade raised his glass to commence the breakfast. He only got a tepid nod from William and a death glare from Felicity. Unwilling let the moment slide, Slade simply clinked his glass against some imaginary ones.

"And you told me Oliver was broody," he teased, smiling amusedly from the rim of his glass. Felicity ignored his satirical joke.

"How can I be sure that you didn't poison _this_?" she questioned, interrogating the fluffy pancake with the tip of her fork.

Slade rolled his eyes and shook his head before taking a bite from his own plate. "Because if you are dead - one, Oliver will put an arrow in my good eye," he said between the bites, "and two, I would have to deal with the whole babysitting thing alone. Which will be less fun."

Felicity scowled. "That's hardly reassuring."

"If you are worried I may poison you, you are welcome to take mine," Slade said, pushing his plate towards her. She looked at the half eaten pancake and decided it was better to risk her life than share indirect mouth-to-mouth contact with the country's most wanted mercenary.

"I can put one scoop of ice cream on your pancakes, just to make your death a _tad_ bit sweeter," he goaded.

Ultimately, Felicity took one reluctant bite.

The pancake was good. In fact, _really_ good. _Sensationally_ good! Even with her acrid taste buds and deprecated sense of smell, she could appreciate how flavorful it was. The pancake was thin and crispy with delicately lacy edges. A bunch of freshly cut strawberries completed the masterpiece. They delivered contrasting acidity and were accompanied by cinnamon infused honey. It was like a gastronomical wet dream. They dared Felicity to think they were better than Oliver's. Why the hell did these island's men cook so well? Did they run Masterchef on Lian Yu or something?

Despite the perfectly cooked pancakes, the tension during breakfast was palpable. Felicity felt like she could hear every bite, chew, and gulp. Adjacent to her, William dug into his breakfast slowly, he took measured bites and chewed his pancakes in silence while his eyes discreetly monitored the interaction between adults around him.

"William?"

His head snapped when his name was called.

"Are you okay? You are exceptionally quiet," Felicity tried to bait him to speak. No such luck. Felicity may know how to hack into high-security A.R.G.U.S databases or to snoop into some big shot's bank account, but she had no idea how to initiate a conversation with a nine-year-old. William just stared at her mutely before returning to his breakfast. Even at this age, the boy already seemed to be full of mystery - just like his father.

"Please let me know if you need anything, okay?" She cajoled him again, scooting closer but warily watched her distance so that William didn't feel like she was invading his personal space. The boy only gave her one cautious nod. Opposite to him, Slade was finishing his second glass of juice, his idle hand was absently fiddling with his sword.

Felicity sighed. This seems harder said than done. She couldn't do breakfast when her nerves felt like she was sitting in the boardroom during an episode of the Apprentice (except that Donald Trump now had adopted the Terminator look). They needed an ice breaker. A random idea flew into her mind.

"Say, William. What about if we play Scrabble?"

* * *

 _A few hours before…_

William was a placid boy. In fact, he was very placid and easy to please it frustrated Oliver to no end. The boy seemed to comply with all of his propositions. He didn't argue when Oliver told him they would have to sleep in the bunker until he sorted more suitable place to live. He didn't protest when Diggle bought him a bacon cheeseburger, even when he disliked bacon and was allegedly allergic to cheese. He nodded compliantly when Rene told him to sit at Felicity's desk in the foundry while the rest of them patched Curtis' wound. None of them knew about William's aversion to blood and gore until he was literally moments away from passing out.

"William, you need to tell me if you dislike something. Having objections doesn't mean you are impolite," Oliver tried to reason with him. Again, the boy just obediently nodded. Oliver sighed.

"This is a new, foreign environment for him, Oliver," Diggle said quietly a few moment after Slade took William out of the lair. "No relationship is formed in an instant. This kind of thing takes time," he added, placing a sympathetic squeeze on Oliver's shoulder.

"I second that," butted Rene. He was placing the bandage over Curtis' stitches. His patient articulated a moan of protest as Rene readjusted the bandage, but Rene dismissed his patient's verbal complaint.

"I don't mean this in a negative way - but you are a stranger to him, Oliver," Diggle piped in.

"You two may share some genes. However, it doesn't change the fact that William doesn't know you and you don't know him. Not yet anyway."

"But we are here if you need us," Rene added. If there was anyone who understood the dilemma of being an absentee father, that would be him.

It was close to four o'clock in the morning by the time they were done. After they made sure Curtis was fine, everyone was ready to hit the sack for a couple of hours before the 'real work' commenced. Everyone except Diggle.

"I'm staying here," Diggle said flatly. Oliver waited until everyone else exited the premises before depositing himself in front of the first Arrow team member.

"Digg…-"

But Dig shook his head. He was already sitting comfortably on Felicity's swivel chair. "Oliver, I know exactly what you're going to say. Save your breath, man. Because I'm stayin'." He turned around and busied himself reading some morning headlines that flashed automatically on the screen.

Unwittingly, Oliver's eyes rested to Digg's freshly bandaged wounds. It had only been less than a week since the catastrophic disaster on Lian Yu that had cost Diggle his right arm. Considering the amount of physical trauma and the severity of the injury, Diggle had done well to return to work this soon. At first, Oliver had demanded Diggle to extend his stay in the hospital only to realize being idle and helpless didn't sit well mentally for his newly amputated team-mate.

Even at home, Lyla's constant prompt _'here, let me do that for you'_ seemed to bruise Diggle's already wounded confidence. She loved him. It was natural and inevitable that she was trying to help. But the gesture meant to comfort him had only ended up hurting him instead.

Subsequently, to salvage their marriage, Diggle decided to spend most of his time in the lair, avoiding inflicting further hurt to his already suffering wife.

"Digg…" Oliver began, trying to digest the situation. "I know I've been saying this over and over again, but you should never think less of yourself just because you have one arm less than most people."

Diggle expelled a loud breath. "I know what're you saying Oliver, believe me, I've been telling myself that. But it's easier said than done, you know?" he said dejectedly. "I just need time, man. I need time to accept all this."

"Well, whenever you are ready. You know where to find me," he said supportively.

Diggle smiled. "I know. But now, I think you better check on your kid and Slade. Felicity hasn't called with any news in hours. I'm beginning to worry that she's turned Slade into burger patties."

Oliver laughed at that, remembering his comment to Barry Allen that dating Felicity had caused him to bruise more than from Deathstroke. Exaggeration, of course, but there was underlying truth to that statement. Oliver grabbed his bag and his jacket. When the elevator dinged, he heard Diggle called to him.

"Thanks, Oliver."

* * *

It was a short journey to Felicity's apartment, but long enough to reflect on his situation with a semblance of privacy that Oliver had yet to find on a regular basis. He had a nagging question about their _nameless_ relationship. If Oliver were truly honest with himself, he would admit it was impossible to keep his relationship with her as a purely platonic friendship - the life and death situation on Lian Yu had forced so many feelings out into the open.

However, before he jumped to any conclusions, there were issues between them that needed to be addressed - his unlikely friendship with Slade Wilson would be one of them.

Minutes later, he stood outside Felicity's apartment, trying to psyche himself up to face her wrath. He reminded himself that he had a reason - a valid reason, and Felicity was one of the most reasonable persons he knew, and also his trustworthy confidant who would do anything to help him in his time of critical need.

But then he reminded himself that he had sent her his child along with his intimidating looking nanny at an unholy hour in the morning, while she was sick.

Yes, he'd be lucky if he Felicity didn't make a hole in his eardrums when she used her loud voice.

The door of her apartment was left slightly ajar. Through the gap, Oliver could hear distant bickering between two familiar voices. He couldn't pick up any particular words but the sentiment seemed clear. He stepped inside, and only then the conversation became more understandable.

" _Supercalifragilistic_ is a word. Just because you have never watched Mary Poppins doesn't invalidate that." A feminine voice contended. She sounded extremely hoarse and nasally, nonetheless still defiant. _A good sign that Felicity is recovering,_ the voice in his head said.

"Don't beat yourself up, Ms. Smoak. My entry - _Kakorrhaphiophobia_ \- has topped the highest point!" claimed the masculine voice. It was most definitely Slade's, Oliver recognized his thick Australian accent. "In which, the meaning you've illustrated so well - an abnormal fear of failure or defeat."

"I am not scared of defeat," Felicity's said with an irked snort.

"... And I am just pointing out that I got 45 points and you got only 43," Slade intoned insistently.

Oliver moved stealthily into the open space living room. In front of the fireplace, Felicity, William, and Slade were engaged in a fierce battle of Scrabble.

"Your words have to be a common, everyday English vocabulary to qualify!" Felicity's voice heightened. Sure, she had made up that rule just to annoy Slade.

"Kakorrhaphiophobia is common!" he defended with a thick vibe of disapproval. "Besides, you gave William points when he put in _Aufweidershen_. And that's not even English!"

"For goodness sake," she scoffed, positively frustrated. "He is just a child!"

Slade sneered at that. "Sore losers never admit defeat."

Despite the verbal quibble, Slade was looking supremely comfortable. He was laying on his side, a bowl of strawberries next to him. Felicity and William sat cross legged side by side on the cashmere rug Thea had bought her for her birthday. A half drank glass of orange juice and remnant of a piece of garlic bread sat next to them.

"Are you guys busy?"

Felicity jumped in surprise."Oliver!" she wore her chiding voice. "The doorbell isn't there as an accessory - you know that, right?"

"You left the front door ajar," he said with a surprisingly innocent grin. "I suspected an unauthorized break in, so I decided to check on you." _Bingo, excellent excuse._

Felicity huffed with irritation. Here was another American Ninja who took pleasure in sneaking up on her. Why couldn't she have normal friends who knocked and knew how to operate a doorbell?

"Oh, sorry. That was me," Slade confessed, raising his hand with a gusto. "I thought feisty Ms. Smoak might kick me out of the house. Leaving it open would save me from the need to turn the handle."

"Ah," Oliver bit his lips, but still looking perfectly calm and smooth. "I need to thank both of you for watching over William this morning. Apparently, the bunker isn't the ideal place for him to stay in right now."

Felicity felt the urge to drag Oliver out of the dining room and interrogate him to find out whatever possessed him to send his defenseless son and the cold-blooded murderer to her doorstep this early in the morning.

"So, I presume you are here to pick up your child and take his extremely-friendly-looking nanny back to the police?" Felicity asked him bluntly.

Slade's grin spread an inch wider.

"Right, about that…." Oliver bounced back and forth on his heels. "Actually I came here to discuss that and also ask for…. _some_ help." In which the word _help_ could be replaced by 'emergency accommodation'.

"Some _help_?" Felicity repeated. Oliver nodded and pressed his lips together tightly - a gesture that Felicity knew meant that Oliver was about to break some unpleasant news.

"Yes, I need a _big_ favor from you," he confirmed.

"Does this _favor_ involve babysitting and….?" Felicity left her words hanging because she saw a spark of veiled guilt in his eyes. And almost telepathically, she knew what he was insinuating in his expression. "Oh boy..."

The room fell silent, he could only hear Felicity frustrated groan. Slade felt the impasse and decided to step in.

"Kid, let's check out some of the games I downloaded onto my phone," he proposed, dragging a reluctant William to a far corner of the open space living room and whispered. "Mom and Dad need to talk."

* * *

"Tell me you are joking," was Felicity's first statement. Both of them ended up standing outside in the corridor since Felicity couldn't find a place inside the apartment where she was sure that Slade wouldn't be able to eavesdrop on their conversation. She leaned on the wall next to the elevator and crossed her arms.

"Felicity, you are my only hope," Oliver pleaded. "Diggle is still recuperating, Thea moved out of town. Who else can there be?"

Well, that's true. The other names surfaced in her mind were either dead or currently uncontactable, including Tommy, Sara, and Laurel.

"But, I have no idea how to take care of nine-year-old." If that was the best line of defense she could come up with, then Oliver was winning. He just needed to coax her to verbally say _yes_.

"You don't have to do much," he said again. "William just needs a place to sleep." Felicity still looked unusually uncomfortable at the prospect.

"What about me cleaning your apartment?" he bargained. Apparently, his business acumen wasn't there for nothing.

 _Shirtless, yes, he should do it shirtless,_ she said in her internal monologue - imagining Oliver's flexing muscle as he mopped her floor with only his green leather trousers on. But Felicity was no business woman if she accepted the first offer Oliver placed on the table.

"You are aware that _I_ am the CEO of Palmer Tech right now, right?" she pointed out. "I can afford to hire a cleaner." Of course, no cleaner could rival the shirtless Oliver Queen in his Arrow getup, but she wasn't about to let that card out just yet.

"I know..." he breathed. "But William won't be here for very long," Oliver promised. "This would help me tremendously while I am looking for a more suitable place to stay...and until the court decides who will have his custody." There was an edge of desperation in his voice. Felicity stood mutely, not quite knowing how to react.

"Of course, he could go in temporary foster care, but I'd like that to be the last option," Oliver filled the void created by Felicity's lack of response. "But my mind would be more at ease if he were here with you. Not even with Slade, Digg, Rene or anyone else, but with _you_ , Felicity."

Dang, he did it again. Oliver always knew the right words to say and the right button to push to outwit her. He must've known how sweet those words rang in her ears. It made her feel… well… _special_.

Felicity sighed resignedly. She wondered where was all her fortitude and steadfastness had gone in the face of those flattering words of Oliver Queen.

"So, when is the court hearing?"

"Next month," he said quietly, fully expecting her jaw dramatically drop.

"A month? You expecting me to babysit for a month?!" She was nearly yelling. "Oliver..-! How could I..-?"

"A month tops, and I'll be here to help you," Oliver butted in. "I will find suitable housing before that. Meanwhile as a thank you, I would clean your apartment as promised."

Felicity's expression remained apathetic, but Oliver wasn't giving up. He upped his rhetoric. "I'll cook dinner," he added, and he saw her mouth twitch slightly - perhaps itching to say yes.

Felicity couldn't deny that it was a lucrative offer, especially as she remembered digging into one of his parmesan infused omelets. Just imagining that was enough to make her mouth water.

"...and I'll do your laundry and dirty dishes!" he said, topping up the deal.

Oliver knew he hit a jackpot when her eyes sparkled. He congratulated himself quietly and clasped hands together while still adopting a look of a criminal who was about to hear the jury's verdict.

He made a compelling argument - if Felicity was being honest - she was easily persuaded by the prospect of organized house and a hot butler...

"Ok, deal," she said crisply, sealing their transaction. "But what about William's schooling and all that?"

"I've registered him at the school down the road, it's just two minutes walk from here."

"You've thought of everything, haven't you," she said wryly.

"Thanks, I really owe you," he said, flashing his typical Queen's disarming smile that could make any girl felt she was the prettiest girl alive.

"I'll move William's stuff from his old house and ship it directly here."

Felicity hummed her approval. Surrounding William with some glimpses of familiarity would provide a semblance of home and would help him to settle down faster.

"This is what friends are for, right? Playing Mary Poppins and emergency Airbnb?" she mentioned rhetorically. She was only joking, but her words struck a nerve.

Oliver pressed his lips together, looking at her sheepishly, the gesture that made Felicity felt immensely guilty for injecting some unnecessary sarcasm. "I was just teasing you. William can stay here until whenever, Oliver. You just need to tell me."

She saw a somber smile cross his lips and he leaned forward, closing the gap between them. For a moment she thought Oliver was going to kiss her - just when a very loud masculine voice yelling profanities disturbed the magic of the moment. Felicity now had one more reason to hate Slade Wilson.

Instinctively, she stepped backward. "Ugh, sorry," she feigned a pretend cough to hide how flustered she was.

"Sorry, my bad… I should've used adult cold medicine." For once, she was grateful that her flu had given her some tangible distraction. She continued to execute a series of mock coughs and sniffles while she took a moment to calm her nerves. "I think I need to go and buy another cold remedy, this one doesn't seem to be working."

"Felicity, the last time I opened your drug cabinet, it already had half a dozen types of flu medicines. You don't need another one."

"What about food?" she detoured the conversation. "I believe your _frenemy_ had used up all my ingredients," she informed, attempting to recover from the nagging awkwardness between them. "And I have nothing to feed your son unless he can survive on ice cream, half-eaten pizza, and some week-old Chow Mein."

"So, you are going to make pancakes?" Oliver clarified.

"I doubt I can ever reproduce whatever Slade just made, but I'm sure Wal-Mart will help me to cheat."

"Sounds like a good idea," Oliver grinned, pulling the door handle and let her go in ahead of him. She felt his hand press into the small of her back as he ushered her back into the apartment. The warmth of his hand filtered through the fabric of her dress, reminding her how she craved for his touch.

Oliver retracted his hand from Felicity's back and slid them into his pocket as soon as he saw Slade. He told him of their plan to hit the supermarket for some rudimentary supplies. Sharing an update of his own, Slade briefly explained that he and William were one move away from completing level forty-five of Candy Crush Saga when his phone battery went dead, hence his vulgar vocabulary and William's frustrated whine.

"Ok, I better get going," Slade said, excusing himself. "You have my number if you need me," he said to Oliver and he left walked out of the apartment

The elevator dinged and Slade stepped in but managed to launch a conspiratorial whisper to Felicity as he whizzed past. "Enjoy your Wal-Mart date, Ms. Smoak." He disappeared from sight behind the elevator's sliding door, leaving Felicity stunned.

"Did he say something?" Oliver suddenly teleported next to her, so close that her back was brushing his stone-hard chest.

As Felicity tried to banish her wandering thoughts over those chiseled muscles under his shirt, his warm hand found its home on the small of her back - again - causing a spark of electricity up her spine. She cut her eyes to the side only to notice William watching their intimate interaction with poorly hidden interest. _Now that's not helping._

"No. Nothing," she fidgeted, stepping sideways.

Oliver raised his brows and grabbed her by shoulders. "Felicity, are you okay?"

She fumbled and nearly crashed into her apartment door. "Yeah. Of...Of course. I just need to - uh - get my car keys. See you guys downstairs?"

Felicity could not believe that the thought of going to Wal-Mart would be this nerve wracking.

* * *

Note : Hope you enjoyed this chapter. All the reviews, kudos, fave, follows are greatly appreciated.

I am keen to get in touch with other Olicity fans, feel free to contact me on Tumblr : 3431jessica. I try to give a snippet of next chapter right there.


	3. Chapter 3

"Do you have a shopping list?" inquired Oliver as they stepped into the store.

"Yes," Felicity grinned while she fished the shocking pink sticky note out of her bag. "Here," she said, handing him the list.

Oliver looked down at the list. A family of pink, animated pigs was smiling back at him, adjacent to Felicity's rushed, carelessly scribbled handwriting. Oliver's brow climbed to his hairline. " _This_ is your shopping list? Just _this_?"

"Yes, it tells you what I need for this week," she confirmed.

"Felicity," He couldn't resist chuckling, both amused and incredulous. "The list only says _'wine'_ three times."

"Well, it's a necessary evil to drown my sorrows after a tiring night of crusading with a hooded vigilante," she said. _It's a good thing he is cute,_ she continued to finish the thought in her head.

Oliver paid her with a smile, "I guess we'll have to improvise."

"Improvise it is."

They traversed the length of the WalMart children's section, picking minion pajamas, bedroom slippers, and a Ninjago T-shirt, all the while trying to strike up a conversation with William. They baited him with all sort of questions. Most of their attempts were futile except when they were talking about one very specific thing….the Flash.

"So, you like the Flash?" Felicity confirmed. William didn't open his mouth, but his enthusiastic nod had expressed his thoughts. "So do I," she quipped. "I like the Flash."

"I didn't know you _liked_ the Flash," stated Oliver to Felicity teasingly. "And for the record, _red_ is a seriously bad color for stealth," he appended while pretending to be interested in a pair of Frozen slippers.

"Oliver, everyone knows _red_ is way cooler than _green_ ," she said in response to his rhetoric and smirked smugly when William hummed his agreement.

Oliver was about to fire off another reply when his eyes caught a pair of kids camo boxers with a mysterious green hooded person imprinted on its front.

"No way!" Felicity laughed, amused with the absurdity of the merchandise. "You officially have a fan club! Oliver, you are famous!" she said, elbowing his ribs. The fact that the portrayal of the anonymous bow-bearing avenger was nothing like Oliver except for his green hood and his grave expression, had made the image more entertaining. "If one day you were flat broke, you start to charge them royalties, you know that right?"

Oliver narrowed his eyes, pausing to peruse the 2D pictorial representation of his face. "It looked like I didn't shave for years," he said. "And my nose…"

"Oliver," Felicity cut his protest and sighed exasperatedly. "You just have to be thankful it isn't pink! Because god knows how many little girls… and _big_ girls," secretly referring to herself, "love the Arrow," she said, imagining the same splash of Oliver's image on a dark, sensuous, lace thong. "Not that _I_ \- emphasize on _I_ \- would ever dream of wearing that kind of a thing."

Oliver's frown deepened, handing the garment back to Felicity who unceremoniously tossed it into the cart. "The team will have to see this," she said, eager to see Curtis, Digg and Rene's reaction.

"No," Oliver said, returning the item to its rack. Right now, he was regretting his famed reputation as the hooded hero. "This is insane."

"Well, if they can't have their idol in person it should be enough to have their hero's face on their undies, right?" she reasoned, grabbing another copy of the item and depositing it to the shopping cart. "Besides, I'm paying, so you, Mister," she jabbed her finger into his chest, "...can't stop me."

Oliver pursed his lips in silent defeat. Felicity's stubbornness could be insufferable sometimes.

When they passed through a small confectionery, Felicity pointed out the existence of Haribo, chewy candies that came in various random shapes from fried eggs and gum to sharks and cola bottles.

"I loved these when I was a child," she admitted, smiling animatedly at the memory. William took the gesture as a seal of approval, immediately picked the largest pack from the shelf.

"I don't think you need _that_ much sweets," said Oliver, shaking his head.

William quietly put the pack of Haribo back on the shelf, a look of disappointment was plastered across his face.

Oliver turned to Felicity and said, "I forgot that you have the taste buds of a five-year old."

"Well, I can't feed your kid with the stuff that I myself resent eating them," she dodged his remark. "That's just plain hypocrisy. And oh…" Felicity raised one finger dramatically at him - her signature signal to say she shouldn't be interrupted. "Do you remember those posh crackers you served one time at your house? The one that your mom said was made from organically grown wheat hand-picked from sustainable sources in Sava region in Madagascar? Well, they tasted like super fancy cardboard."

Despite her sarcasm, the corner of Oliver's lips twitched upward slightly at the memory. He remembered the Queen Consolidated dinner where they were served with a minuscule French appetizer whose name he couldn't pronounce. And after the last course of that very unsatisfying meal, Felicity begged Diggle to take her to Big Belly Burger for a _proper_ dinner.

"I'm sure your dad wouldn't mind if we get some Lego Mindstorm later," Felicity told William, attempting to placate the boy's chagrin. "It won't damage your teeth."

"Yes, but it will damage your pocket," Oliver noted with a slight grin. Felicity thought it was quite an irony to hear the remark from a man whose parents could afford to buy an entire floor of Prada.

"For a girl who pays the electric bill of the Arrow secret hideout, I'd said a few boxes of Lego wouldn't do much harm," she commented.

"But first, I think you should upgrade your car," Oliver argued. There had been quite a number of discussions on why, Felicity, as Palmer Tech CEO, should buy herself a luxurious car that more accurately represented the image of wealth and success. But Felicity wasn't a person who easily swooned over big names. She was simple and pragmatic. In fact, she pointed out that instead of buying a Ferrari - which only had two seats and drained four gallons of gas every mile - Oliver should've used his money to buy a bus! Now that would be money well spent.

"Ok, so… no Lego Mindstorm," Felicity capitulated. "Does that mean I can buy him sweets?"

"No."

Felicity sighed. Playing parent with Oliver had proven to be quite a chore.

"My mom told me it's important to reward a child when they obey or outperform the task you've asked them to do. It's kind of a reward system - for example, one package of sweets in exchange for one good deed," Felicity explained.

"Like a dog treat?" Oliver deadpanned, tilting his head.

"Yes. I'm not saying that William is a dog, Oliver, but the concept still applies."

Oliver's finally relented knowing he wouldn't win this duel of opposing viewpoints. "Can't it be something healthier than sweets, like… a carrot, or maybe a cucumber?"

Nowhere in the world had Felicity ever heard of a child accepting his cucumber treats joyfully after doing a task. "Oliver, it's like you buying a salad strainer for your parent's anniversary. You'd be lucky if your mom knew what it is."

Felicity nearly busted out laughing at the look of absolute consternation that crossed Oliver's face at her metaphorical comparison. "Ok, let's compromise and settle on a smaller pack," she said, throwing the pack of sweets inside the trolley.

Oliver pressed his lips together and began to push the shopping cart. "I'm surprised you haven't fed my kid any Big Belly Burger."

Felicity fell silent, which could only mean one thing. Oliver's eyebrows slanted incredulously. "When was that?"

"Actually, I've ordered a delivery for tomorrow." Felicity cringed in embarrassment. "For both lunch and dinner. My microwave is broken," she appended, biting her lips and bracing for Oliver's acrid reaction.

"Felicity, a child can't live on daily take out! _And_ candies!" Oliver admonished.

Perfectly anticipating his comment, Felicity laughed and gestured up and down her figure. "Born, bred and groomed from Vegas' Chinese takeout. I may add that my mom always asked for extra salt and no veggies. So, consider my unhealthy obsession for Big Belly Burger as an improvement, at least their burgers have lettuce and tomato. And if I may add, considering my exceptional intellect, MSG has perhaps boosted my IQ."

He shook his head incredulously. "I'm glad I've volunteered to cook."

"Be my guest," she grinned.

They finally arrived at the toy aisle that was full Legos and action figures. Felicity consulted William briefly before picked out a few items and piled them in the shopping cart. Oliver pretended not to notice.

"These are all made in China?" Oliver remarked disbelievingly as he scrutinized a box of Ninjago Lego. Despite his demotion from his previous billionaire status, as a bachelor who used to dress in couture suits and had caviar for breakfast, Oliver was still learning the struggles of regular citizens.

"My mom said, God made the heaven and the earth, but the rest are made in China," Felicity said. Oliver chuckled at her witty comeback and they continued their shopping.

As they walked through the cosmetics section, Felicity could no longer wait to ask the burning question, "So, what's the deal with Mr. Assassin Crazy Pants?" She tried to hide her desire to 'knee the douchebag in the groin' from reflecting on her words.

Oliver sucked a long breath, realizing he would have to have a difficult conversation about the man that had incited Felicity's vehemence.

"I hooked him up with Lyla, and she promised to give him a job," Oliver confessed. Felicity crinkled her nose. Lyla had taken over the leadership post in A.R.G.U.S since the death of Amanda Waller. But Amanda's Death Squad legacy - of hiring notorious criminals and other dangerous individuals who had failed rehabilitation in normal institutions - seemed to live beyond her grave. But at least, yes, Slade had a job.

"I'm somewhat relieved that I won't have to see him behind the counter at Big Belly Burger," Felicity said wryly.

"He won't be bothering you," Oliver said, stepping up to reassure her. "I asked him to come help you with William because he was the only one who didn't have a job to go to, at least not yet anyway." Unfortunately, his explanation didn't seem to appease her, but something else caught her attention.

A familiar brunette made her way into Felicity's field of view.

"Felicity…" Oliver whispered.

"What?" she replied absently because her eyes were tracking the approach of the slender woman wearing a sleek navy pencil skirt that made her legs look miles long.

"Can you stop gripping my arm so tightly, my fingers are beginning to feel numb," he complained.

"Oh, sorry!" She immediately withdrew her hand as if it was on fire. She didn't even know how or why her hand had ended up on his arm.

Oliver smirked and pretended to massage his arm slightly to resume circulation, but Felicity didn't notice because the woman she'd been staring at recognized them and was coming right over. A feeling of self-awareness crept into her chest. Felicity looked down at her own vibrantly colored summer dress and silently reprimanded herself for not picking something with a more subdued pattern and muted colors. She suddenly felt as if she was wearing a curtain rather than a fashionable dress.

"Hello, Oliver! Felicity! Fancy meeting you two here," the woman said cordially. Felicity remembered her. Susan Williams, Oliver's ex-girlfriend, the woman who was currently poised in sleek office wear, perfectly balancing on her stilettos while carrying a small basket in one hand.

"Oh, hello Susan," Oliver said leadingly as Susan leaned in to plant a warm, waxy kiss on his cheek - which in Felicity's opinion - way too long to be appropriate. Oliver, of course, welcomed the gesture.

"Hi, yes… nice to meet you, Susan. I still remember the last time we met," Felicity joined in, hoping her smile didn't look as tight as the feeling in her chest. _Great_ , she mentally berated in her head. Just as she thought her 'date' with Oliver in Wal-Mart couldn't get any more disastrous. But she couldn't blame Oliver for his genetic predisposition as an irresistible chick magnet. He was undeniably a pretty fine specimen.

"Oh… I'm flattered that you still remember me," Susan replied, mirroring Felicity's sentiment.

"Of course, we blurted the same line at the same time after Oliver's epic Christmas speech remember?" Felicity replied eloquently even though her hands were busy straightening the non-existence crease on her dress. She did try not to let the aesthetic contrast between this woman and herself get to her, but seeing the flirtatious stare Susan had at the gorgeous man next to her, Felicity couldn't help but feel compared.

"That's right."

Susan's eyes rested on William who stood right next to her. Felicity immediately read the situation and nudged Oliver's thick arm with her shoulder.

"Oh, Susan, this is William, my son. William this is Ms. Susan Williams," Oliver retorted calmly as though the impromptu introduction had been rehearsed many times.

"Yes. _His_ son," Felicity clarified quickly before Susan's questioning eyes landed on her. "I'm just here to help him decide on… you know…. _things_."

An amused smirk pulled Susan's lips as she took in the reality of the situation.

"Oh, that's wonderful. So, I take it you are a proud father, Oliver?"

"Yes. Yes, I am," he smiled. "By the way, Susan, can I speak to you in private for a moment?" He paused to gaze towards her as he excused himself and Felicity instinctively reciprocated with a quick approving nod.

The next few minutes felt like centuries as the two of them were engaged in a secretive conversation. Felicity was pacing up and down the cosmetics aisle with William who was politely trying to look like he was not bored to death. She pretended to be uninterested in their dialogue while secretly tuning in with the hope that her ears would pick up a few important words that might suggest what they were talking about. Alas, she had no such luck.

Eventually, Oliver pulled out his phone, punched in something and then returned it to his pocket before ending the conversation. Felicity saw Susan briefly link her arm with Oliver's and wave her other hand towards her to say goodbye. Felicity just reciprocated the gesture in autopilot.

When he returned beside her, Felicity felt an urge of possessiveness to hold his hand. However, her mind quickly reasoned that such feelings were both unreasonable and unrequited. She settled for balling up her fist instead.

For the next half hour, Felicity was relatively quiet, trying to push the thoughts of Susan Williams out of her mind and staying focused on the shopping. It turned out to be an impossible task when her addled brain kept coming up with random atrocious scenarios - like the one where Oliver wanted to rekindle his relationship with his old flame.

Even though he was physically right beside her, Felicity realized there was a distance between them now. The Oliver from the island was gone. He was gone when Prometheus destroyed Lian Yu. Oliver had a new life now. He was no longer a mayor with a secret nightly mission as the city's guardian. He had other life besides being the Hood. He had a family - a son. He had other priorities. He had things that he wanted to keep to himself. And just like how this issue had come between them back then, it looked like it was going come between them again now.

As though he could sense her discomfort, Oliver reached for her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckles soothingly. The simple gesture nearly brought tears to her eyes. She craved these little gestures of thoughtfulness. She missed his warm touch. She missed _him_. She missed being his girl, not just his crusade partner and a reliable confidant, but his _girl_ girl.

"Felicity, you okay?" Oliver asked, reading into her silence.

"I'm fine," she returned flatly. Her mind reminded her that Oliver had chosen to confide his problem, trouble or whatever that concerned him to someone else. He had explicitly asked to speak to Susan alone. It was _their_ secret. _That_ was definitely hitting close to home.

"I just….I just thought my dress looked like a curtain," she replied, pressing her lips together to silence the sting of sadness that clawing up her throat.

That wasn't strictly a lie.

Oliver stopped short and his eyes swept up and down her figure bemusedly, "Really? I think you wear it well."

"Not as well as… -ugh- never mind," she said, hoping that Oliver wouldn't detect how her voice hitched.

His gaze lingered on her face. Felicity swiftly turned around to make a speedy retreat, worried that Oliver might detect the hurt in her eyes.

They took the next fifteen minutes arranging the items they had just purchased inside the car. It should've been fun to watch Oliver, half buried with a stack of ready meals, Legos, and pizza on his lap. Juice, cereal, and flour were between his legs, and one arm stretched back to steady the large plastic bag which was balancing precariously on the edge of the back passenger seat. But her consternation seemed to have overtaken all of her senses - even her magnificent purchase of the Arrow camo kids boxers was unable to lift her mood.

"Careful with that, there are eggs inside," Oliver told her from behind the stack of groceries when she absently tossed the plastic bag in question to the last space between her legs.

"Friendly reminder that I'm the one who packed them in the bag," she replied, buckling her seatbelt and turned the key while carefully adjusting the position of her foot so she didn't end up with a puddle of raw omelet by the end of the journey.

"Woah wait," he landed his hand on her knee. Felicity shuddered slightly, feeling the nice sensation of his warm fingers touching her skin. "While I appreciate the solidarity, can you actually drive with eggs, milk, and wine between your legs?" he questioned.

"Don't worry," she went on, reversing out the parking space. "I think I have a good eggnog recipe you can try tonight."

"Alright." She heard his calm reply. "If that's an invitation for a date. Here's my proposition. I'll be at yours right after work. The dinner's on me," he finished. And for once, Felicity was thanking her unconventional brain for always coming up with the worst way to say just about everything.

* * *

Thanks to Laureningall Ao3 for her beta.

And those of you in the US who had never seen Haribo in various shapes, you need to see this advert in www dot youtube dot com /watch?v=qw6_5t8XfSk and /watch?v=qv64gSHZJl8

I'll be extremely grateful if you could leave me a review :-) Especially after watching the advert. Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

They returned from their shopping about an hour later. Oliver insisted he stay a little while so Felicity could get a bit of rest while he worked on some correspondence from his phone.

Oliver remained obstinate that his presence in the Mayor's office wasn't all that necessary as long as he got his job done. But as a child coming from a broken home, Felicity understood that the social service's approval was dependent on how well Oliver acted like an exemplary citizen in his job, regardless of whether he took it for granted. Thankfully for Oliver, he had a friend like her who always thought sensibly and protected him from risks he has not yet fathomed - just like his ambivalence over his family's fortune had nearly cost him to be homeless and almost losing his nightly crusade as the Arrow.

Five minutes to eight, after half an hour listening to Felicity's relentless lecture and a patronizing text from Digg, Oliver caved in. He rushed to change his clothes and headed to City Hall.

Then, she was left with William.

Felicity had no siblings and ever since her father left - interaction with cousins with similar age had been minimal. Growing up she was compulsively well behaved. Her manners were impeccable, and her grades likewise. It's no wonder that her mother sometimes wondered whether she was adopted. She preferred to spend her spare time building computers or at the library rather than hanging out with her friends and talking about boys. But right now, she could have used those kinds of social skills. She had no idea what to do with William apart from the usual maintenance: serve him food, buy him clothes and tuck him into bed. The awkward silence between them was palpable.

 _Note to self: don't have kids, just have pet instead. You won't need to strike up a conversation with them._

After another dose of her cold medicine, her brain began to function and she remembered the Lego set they purchased earlier. She helped William carry the set to a corner of the living room that she had mentally labeled as the 'messy corner,' and they began building.

The trick worked, and William was quietly building away. Felicity took the opportunity to get some work done, grabbing her tablet and scrolling through her email. Technically, she was still off sick today, but being the CEO of the company meant that the word 'rest' was merely a suggestion. Thankfully, the new cold medicine she bought from Wal-mart had begun to work its wonders.

The alternating busyness of juggling her work while trying to entertain William had provided her with a necessary distraction over her earlier encounter with Susan Williams.

But over time she found her mind itching to know what Susan and Oliver had discussed. The thought of hacking into Susan's laptop crossed her mind. She still had her laptop's unique Mac Address, it would be easy enough to locate and snoop into her hard drive. Would she find a clue there? But… would she be ready to face the tru..-

Her random musing was interrupted by loud chime coming from inside her bag. Her phone was beckoning.

* * *

10 minutes later outside her neighbor's door.

 _Hi, I'm Felicity Smoak. I hope you don't mind my intrusion, but I am stuck with my ex-fiance's nine-year-old kid, and I have no idea what to do with him,_ she rehearsed mentally while smoothing her dress. _And since you are happily married with three children, I would appreciate a domestic consultation._

Felicity glanced briefly towards William before pressing the doorbell. The boy stood an arm's length away from her, focusing his eyes to an imaginary point on the wall. Felicity was no novice in sharing her dwelling place with strangers, she had her fair share of that at MIT. She should have no qualm on sharing a house with William considering he was not half as intimidating as the Criminology post-grad who looked like the perfect reincarnation of the Terminator. Yet, the prospect still freaked her out spectacularly.

Psyching herself like a door-to-door salesman, Felicity pressed the doorbell once. Seconds later the door creaked open.

"Hello, I'm Felicity Smoak, your neighbor from upstairs," she said, waving the phone in her hand.

"I received your text."

"Hi Felicity, nice to meet you. I'm Elizabeth. You can call me Lizzie," the other woman replied.

Elizabeth must've been in her late thirties. Her thick, red locks were piled haphazardly on her head. She was wearing a banana yellow t-shirt with a large minion character splashed on its center that was emblazoned with a slogan "You are my one in a _minion_ " underneath. She wore Abercrombie sweatpants and a pair of furry Pokemon bedroom slippers. She was a good eight inches taller than Felicity with a tight waist, slender legs and a bra size that was would make any men willing to be her slave.

"Please do come in Lis. Wait, You don't mind me call you that do you?"

"Sure," Felicity consented. She liked her already.

They moved into the corridor, and Felicity realized that Elizabeth, or more like - her loaded husband, must've bought the entire floor of flats and joined them together to make one, spacious house. They stepped into her lavish living room, and Felicity noticed a few old magazine scattered underneath its glassy coffee table, depicting the younger Elizabeth wearing an opulent aquamarine gown that clung perfectly to her delicious curves. The low neckline that framed her shoulders added a sensuous touch to the picture, exposing her unblemished skin. Her moistened lips were laced with striking shades of red and she pouted theatrically. She was leaning on one elbow, and her other hand positioned as though she was blowing kisses to the readers.

"Tips for a happy marriage," the subheader of the magazine said, featuring Elizabeth Morgan-Williams.

Even after years of childbearing that had altered her figure, Felicity still could see traces of her modeling legacy hidden underneath her current morbid outfit. Could someone explain where she acquired the taste of minion and Pokemon themed clothing?

"This way please," and Elizabeth led the way into her home.

"You have a lovely home," Felicity remarked, looking at the tasteful decor and designer furniture throughout the room. To be honest, some of the pieces were borderline ostentatious.

"Oh thank you," Elizabeth replied. "My husband insisted on hiring the best interior designer in the country to design this."

 _...Let's hope he is not an arrogant prick like most bankers are._

They stepped into the kitchen where Elizabeth had already laid out a spread of sweet nibbles. The intense aroma of freshly ground coffee tantalized Felicity's nostrils as she sat down on the empty barstool.

"I'm sorry for the unsolicited message I left on your door, hope you didn't find it creepy," Felicity began.

"Oh, not at all," Elizabeth waved her perfectly manicured hand in a manner that reminded her of Moira Queen. "And this must be William."

The boy in question squirmed in his place and seemed to shrink in size. Surprisingly, he grasped Felicity's hand as though it was his lifeline.

Thankfully, Elizabeth's motherly instinct sensed his trepidation and she spontaneously gathered her little army of children into a line. "William, this is Oscar, he is nine. And this is Olivia, she is six and last but not least…. this is baby Orlando, he just turned one." As she introduced her children, each smiled, giggled and waved their hands at them. "They are very keen to get to know you," Elizabeth advised.

"Orlando?" Felicity asked tentatively. She quickly slapped her hand over her mouth for its insolent questioning of Elizabeth's choice of baby names. It was truly not her business.

Elizabeth grinned. "Yes… I had a strange Orlando Bloom craving when I was pregnant with him. Good thing that my husband's cousin, previously the editor of Vanity Fair, had a connection that could get me a special pass to watch him shooting one of his films."

"That's neat," Felicity responded.

"For weeks my husband suspected me and the baby were conspiring against him," she shared. "But at the end, he relented and realized that Orlando is such a cool name. Who knows, he might even grow up be a famous actor too."

"I wanted to name him Olaf," piped Olivia, pinching her brother's chubby cheek. The baby let an aggravated whimper, trying to get even by grabbing Olivia's blonde locks, but his sister saw it coming and caught his wrist instead.

"I much prefer Batman," Oscar cut in.

His sister glared at him in disgust. "Batman?" she did a mock gag. "Mommy and Daddy wouldn't like that. He is broody and miserable and…and… and wears a stupid cape. Besides, it doesn't start with 'O,'" she protested. "Except you could change his name to Oatman."

"Whatever," Oscar grumbled.

"Okay children!" Elizabeth's authoritative voice silenced their bickering. "Why don't you all go and play in the playroom. Please be nice to William. His dad is the Mayor of Star City," she instructed.

Felicity hid an amused grin beneath her hand at Elizabeth's rationale behind motivating her children to be civil. She wondered what the woman would say if she knew Oliver was the Green Arrow?

She ushered the children into another room that was separated from the living space by a large glass panel. They could see them from where they sat but couldn't hear them. William visibly stiffened when Oscar pulled two dress up outfits from the playbox - the Flash, and the Green Arrow. It took him no time to weigh his option and went for the red one.

"I have never heard of anyone craving something other than food when they are pregnant," admitted Felicity, returning to the previous topic as Elizabeth padded her way into the kitchen.

"Oh, believe me, you do. It's all the ridiculous things hormones do to you," she lamented, delicately sipping her coffee. "One of the many joys of pregnancy," she laughed in a self-deprecating manner and said, "...Best not to question it and do what it tells you."

"I take it you named your children after your husband? Well… except for Orlando, which is..-"

"Yes, my husband's name is Oliver," Elizabeth announced, eyes watching where they boys were hiding behind the sofa to ambush some invisible gangster.

Okay, so there was another Oliver who, judging from his gorgeous wife, prospectively could be as sizzling as Oliver Queen and Orlando Bloom combined. An image of an able-bodied man with a square jaw in a sleek black suit carrying a suitcase full of cash surfaced in Felicity's mind.

"Seems like everyone named Oliver is born to be ho..- _famous_ ," Felicity corrected.

Elizabeth grinned knowingly. "I think I'll call him Oliver-Twin, so we won't confuse him with _your_ Oliver." And her watchful eyes zeroed on Felicity's hand right after the sentence fell from her lips.

Felicity's fist clenched in the similar fashion to her heart. The wound from her broken engagement reopened, stinging and raw. She thought she could hide the missing ring, alas…

Looking at the vacated space on Felicity's ring finger, Elizabeth came to instant realization of her blunder. "Oh god!" Her hands crept to cover her mouth, her face mortified. "Pardon my mindless drivel. So impolite of me," she admonished herself. "I'm so sorry Lis, I didn't know that you guys…-"

"That's alright," was about the only thing Felicity could manage. "We are good. Perhaps we are not meant to be. In fact, I am the one who initiated the break-up, but we are still friends."

Felicity expected some judgemental stare sizing her up intently. At the end of the day, she'd got Oliver's company. She's got all the money that used to be his. She was the one who left him. People were bound to speculate and make assumptions after what happened. Considering her history with Oliver, her intimate position as his EA, and all that seemed to entail it was no wonder the tabloids were filled with twisted stories about her greediness and her proclivity to manipulate men. She was expecting a sinister look, but all Elizabeth did was smile apologetically as she seemed to wish she could revoke her earlier comment.

"Oh, that's good," she told Felicity, breathing a sigh of relief that her slip-up hadn't raised any combative flags.

"You don't have to feel bad," Felicity reassured her again. She was glad she didn't have an image to rehab. "Our breakup brought out a lot of sobering facts of things we need to work on as individuals."

From across the large breakfast table, Elizabeth swept her eyes around the room to look for another topic of conversation. One victim came into view.

"Oliver!" Elizabeth leaped from her seat, hurling herself into her husband's arms and dragging him in the process. "...this is Felicity Smoak, our neighbor from upstairs."

Felicity straightened her spine and plastered on an exuberant smile as she readjusted her glasses. She needed to make a good impression on Elizabeth's heartthrob husband. She needed a definite answer on how hot he was. For science.

Then a wave of surprise hit her.

Elizabeth's knight in the shining armor was nothing like a hot footballer or athletic rugby player she'd fantasized, in fact, he was hardly a boyfriend material at all for a catwalk model of her caliber. Oliver-Twin stood a foot shorter than his towering wife and perhaps a decade older than her. He was a stocky, bald, pot-bellied and agreeable man, just like the perfect image of Oliver's doppelganger she had discussed with Barry Allen about a year ago.

If Felicity ever asked for a tangible proof that love is blind this was it.

"Hi Darling," he said to Elizabeth, stretching the 'a' in very posh mannerism. He planted a chaste kiss on his wife's forehead before greeting Felicity.

"Hello Ms. Smoak," as he stretched out his hand and smiled with no indication of haughtiness that Felicity had anticipated from a stereotypically well-to-do banker with truckloads of money.

"I'm Oliver Williams, but people at work called me Theodore or Theo for short."

She recognized the name - Oliver Theodore Williams - a shortlist candidate from Tatler's most inspiring businessman and one of the 500 richest man on Fortune's list. He had multi-billion dollar construction business empire in Central City and had moved to Star City to work on a project rebuilding the Glades after the undertaking. Subsequently, his extraordinary success had made him rich enough to work as a senior advisor to Star City National Bank as a _hobby_. It's just weird to finally put a face to the name.

"I've heard that name!" Felicity gushed.

"Honey, his name is on the side of this building," Elizabeth pointed to the sign in front of their condo.

 _Right, so he owns this building._

"Finally I get to meet you, the youngest CEO in Star City," he complimented. Felicity blushed. To be perfectly honest, even though she had earned her place by merit, a lot of luck was involved in winning the position of CEO of Palmer Tech - her love affairs with two billionaire vigilantes included.

"And I get to meet one of the men that I've been observing. And by observing I mean I just read an article about you, but I always wondered what you looked like in real life….. and wow that sounded a lot creepier than I intended. But believe me, I am not using my tech ability to spy on you." _Because if I did, I wouldn't be surprised to see this._

"I don't mind if you are _spying_ on me," he laughed. "I am sure you won't stumble upon any naked pictures in the process. I am quite decent." Well, actually Felicity had peeked into the money in his bank account as part of 'research' before the undertaking. But after concluding he had a clean record - no criminal activity, she had never bothered to look further to check his physical appearance. That would've been creepy.

Moments after her shock wave subsided, she began to absorb the details of his look. Theodore was wearing an old t-shirt that was discolored around the edges and a pair of bermuda shorts that barely fit around his broad waist. He was one of the men in Star City with enough funds to live in the lap of luxury, and right now he stood in front of her wrapped in… well, _rags_. Saying that he tried to keep everything low-profile was an understatement.

Felicity was stiff and awkward. She had been completely wrong in her assessment about practically everything. It must've been so funny because Elizabeth giggled melodramatically and said to her husband. "I take it my guest is fatally smitten with how charming you are."

"Yes, I'm thanking my remarkable chromosomes every day," he quipped candidly.

The three of them chatted easily about their work, trading facts about their monotonous corporate life. Elizabeth occasionally peppered the conversation with a comment about her mundane domestic chores and jokingly said she wouldn't mind a swap.

Their repartee was interrupted when Theodore's cell phone buzzed, singing an energetic tune of "Everything is Awesome" from the Lego Movie.

"I have to go," he stated, lazily pulling himself from the barstool.

"I thought you took a day off today?" Elizabeth asked.

"Oh, non-work. It's cousin Sue. She needs a favor," he clarified. "She helped you so much during your pregnancy. She wants payback."

"I hope it's not love advice," Elizabeth joked, polished off the rest of the nibbles while her husband vented. How she kept a tight figure, Felicity had no idea. _Sometimes life is just unbelievably unfair._

"She needs to learn from the best," Theodore bragged. "After all, I've proven my credibility by having a Vogue cover girl mop my floor and bear my children."

"Don't make me reconsider my generosity," Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Just make sure you don't wear those Armani pants. They make your butt looks bigger."

"Just admit it you are envious of my nice butt, Darling," he said, laughing as he strode out in an exaggerated gait.

"Absolutely no competition," Elizabeth muttered sardonically.

"Your husband is cute," Felicity said when Oliver-Twin disappeared behind the door. She groaned and slapped her hand on her temple when she realized what her statement might connote. "Not that kind of _cute_ , it's platonic _cute_. And I'm not saying that you are not cute, Lizzie, because you are. In fact, everyone in your family is cute. Sorry… This is a chronic condition. I mean me, speaking in fragments and ranting randomly, which is going to stop… in 3...2...1." Felicity quickly clamped her mouth to restrain further babbles. She was glad Oliver-Twin wasn't here to witness it.

Elizabeth giggled demurely. "You are cute too. Are you seeing anyone? Because if you are not, there are plenty of our friends who would fall head over heels for you."

"No, I'm not seeing anyone. Not that I have an aversion to dating," _especially those in leather suits and Kevlar undergarment._ "...But I kind of have my hands full at the moment."

"So you are single…?"

"Yes, but I'm married to my job," Felicity quipped. _Perhaps permanently, until the man that had captured my heart is either married…_

 _...or dead. Let's hope none of those._

Elizabeth paused to laugh _._ "I think your definition of marriage is completely different from mine." She shook her head. "I hope you don't mind me saying this. But it's a crime for an attractive, rich, blondie like you to be perpetually single and figuratively unavailable."

 _I am not perpetually single, and I am not blonde - I dyed my hair. Wait, shall I tell her that my last boyfriend was accidentally shot dead by my ex-fiance? No, definitely not an appropriate first playdate dialogue topic around doughnuts and coffee._

"Well, I am one of a rare breed of adorable nerds that prefer solitude to living in a colony." _Ok, that was a lie._ "Besides, laptops won't break your heart."

"I don't see you as a hermit type, but ok, I won't question your lifestyle choices," Elizabeth said.

 _Thank you, I hope that's a compliment, not an insult._

They watched the kids while nibbling into the confectionery. Oscar and William were sitting side by side, sharing an energetic conversation. From the way he shared his treasured hooded-vigilantes-action figures, Oscar seemed to have already grown fond of William.

And he didn't even know his friend's dad was the Green Arrow.

"It's nice to meet a boy the same age as Oscar. You did the right thing to help him to settle down by introducing him to new friends," Elizabeth told Felicity, watching her son mouth moving hundreds of miles an hour while William was giggling profusely.

"Yes, I hope you don't mind if we come again."

"I second that notion. I would need help to demolish the cabinet-full of confectionery before they passed their used-by date."

"I will need to check my blood sugar tonight," Felicity teased back.

A few minutes into the conversation, Felicity discovered that not only the boys were the same age, but Oscar went to the same school as William. That in itself was even a greater relief. After surviving the harrowing experience on the island, Felicity didn't want the poor boy to deal with a daunting first day of school without a single friendly face.

"Oh yes, thank you for generously donating those pancake ingredients a couple of days ago," Felicity mentioned.

"That's all right, glad to help. Is that your friend as well?"

"Oh no..no.. he is…an old acquaintance," Felicity blurted, thankfully her brain automatically sugarcoated the truth. The last thing she wanted was to face the complications of sharing too much information about the Arrow's frenemy to a stranger.

"So, William used to live in Central City with his mom," Felicity intentionally sidetracked.

"Oh?" Elizabeth's curiosity piqued. Subject averted, momentarily.

"Yes, she sadly passed away suddenly," Felicity tried to keep things simple. "And he moved here to be with his dad."

"I take it that Oliver currently lives in his bachelor sanctuary?" Elizabeth concluded why William ended up with Felicity.

"Yup," Felicity replied, glad she didn't have to supply any further detail that might kindle suspicion about what kind of bachelor pad Oliver was currently living in.

"Understandable. The social service would never approve that," Elizabeth elaborated to herself. She was about to say something else when they heard a shout from behind the playroom's glassy panel.

"Killer Frost, you have failed this city!" Oscar's muffled voice proclaimed.

A silhouette of a bow-wielding avenger and his red, thundering confidant prowled among the furniture. The room turned into a battlefield between two cosplay protagonists with their tiny but menacing nemesis. Olivia acted as Killer Frost in her Elsa's costume with her evil assistant, Orlando as Olaf, crawling from their hiding place…. _Literally_.

"Tell me where you hid Scruffy or this arrow will drill a hole in your chest!" Oscar practically growled using his best impersonation of Arrow like voice. His bow pointing towards Olivia who was using her baby brother as a human shield.

"No way!" exclaimed Olivia resolutely and she retaliated by taking her mom cordless hair dryer, pretending it was freeze gun. "I will freeze both of you!" Even baby Orlando took his rattle, anointed it with his saliva, and threw it towards the boys who shrieked and dispersed in disgust.

Meanwhile, Felicity's detective instinct had identified the hapless victim - a toddler-beaten doll that was currently tied to a doorknob. Oscar picked his way through the jungle of toys to rescue the doll but Olivia had her hand on it first and refused to let it go.

"Let him go or…-"

"Or _what_?" taunted Olivia.

"Oscar! Play _nicely_ please," Elizabeth reprimanded, voice firm. "No killing anyone." All the children froze at her intervention.

"I'm playing nicely!" Oscar exploded, he was offended by his mom accusation. "I'm just negotiating with them, Mom. I only kill them if they refuse to comply," he said, darting metaphorical daggers towards Olivia.

Surprisingly, the girl was perfectly undeterred. She tilted her chin and placed her hands on her hips in challenge. "I was playing tea party with Scruffy. You took him and tied him on the doorknob."

"Oh yeah?" provoked Oscar.

Elizabeth groaned into her palm, and Felicity recorded the scene on an invisible memo on her head. It was bizarrely funny to hear the theatrical scene the kids were reenacting, It really wasn't much different than what she often heard through the comms - especially the bit with Oliver's obligatory line of "You have failed the city."

"Don't make me come in there!" Elizabeth told her kids. They stunned for roughly a second before resuming their squabble. In the end, their mom turned on the TV, and the culmination of the epic feud between team Flash/Arrow vs. Elsa/Olaf ceased when everyone agreed on a truce for half an hour to watch Sponge Bob.

"You all shall deal with the consequences later," she hissed dangerously, exiting the playroom. Olivia just shrugged noncommittally while Oscar had his eyes on the screen, completely shut his mother out.

"Pardon my unruly kids, they get over excited with new friends," Elizabeth told Felicity sheepishly.

"It's a good indication that they have an active mind," Felicity consoled.

"Tell me about it," Elizabeth said wryly, taking another dainty sip of her coffee. "So, what do you plan to do with William while you and Oliver are at work?" she asked, returning to their conversation.

That was a real problem, to be honest, Felicity hadn't had time to process the situation further than tonight's dinner.

"I can help you with a couple of hours here and there, but you must think of more permanent arrangement," she offered, making up for Felicity's silence.

"Mmm… I have to discuss this with Oliver," Felicity said pragmatically. She quickly realized how the sentence may have made it sound like she was a proactive partner in the whole parenting scene.

"No, I mean I will let _Oliver_ decide about this."

"What about family, does Oliver have anyone he can invite to come over and help you?" Elizabeth returned evenly.

Well, the straight answer was no. Raisa went back to Russia and Thea had moved away from Star City. Even Scary Poppins was going to work for Lyla soon. There were no viable options, they truly had no one readily at their disposal. However, Elizabeth's rhetoric stirred an idea.

"Yes, I think I just have a person in mind," Felicity quipped, pulling her cell phone and vigorously punching the keypad.

The playdate ended abruptly as Felicity peered out the window and recognized a large moving truck parked in front of their apartment. True enough, a few man with three large boxes between them headed straight to her door, which Felicity swiftly intercepted before one of them readily scribbled a 'sorry you are not in' notes.

After letting them in, she ushered William inside and then her phone chimed. Her mom had replied.

" _What's the emergency? Please tell me another billionaire proposed you or someone else just gave you his company. Preferably both."_

" _No. Mom, but I am stuck with a child. You need to help me."_

Then, her phone chimed profusely.

" _You are pregnant? CONGRATULATIONS! (dance emoji) (throw confetti emoji) (hi-5 emoji) Who is the father? Is he a billionaire? Does he have nice muscles? I'm so excited! I'm so ready to be a grandma! (a train of exclamation mark)."_ Felicity could almost hear her mom voice shrieking those words from Las Vegas.

" _Sorry for breaking the moment, Mom, but it's not my child. It's William - Oliver's. By the way, did you just see Emoji Movie? Because those graphics you sent were disturbing."_

A minute later, her mom responded.

" _Him? What kind of evil deed did you commit in your previous life that got you stuck with someone else's child? Honey, you are not graduating from MIT to be a babysitter."_

 _Thanks for the heads up, Mom._

Felicity wanted to elaborate, but knowing her mother, they would text back and forth the whole day or until her finger was scalded whichever one came first.

 _"Long story mom. So, can you come? I could use some help,"_ she typed in exasperation.

" _Let's hope your good deeds as Mother Theresa didn't go to waste. And I don't want you to be a cat lady. By the way, how's your business trip with Oliver? All went well?"_

Yes, Felicity had told her mom that during all of the time she was gone on Lian Yu that she was actually on a _business_ trip with Oliver which was not strictly a lie. Felicity was working a smart retort when her phone buzzed again.

" _Too bad the Watch Guy is dead, Billy is dead, even Cooper_ _is dead (not that I want you to ever hook up with him). OMG, I start to see a pattern here. Are you sure Oliver didn't kill them and stuff them into the freezer in his basement or something? Because I can imagine him doing that."_

Felicity tried not to bang her head on the wall at her mom's dramatic reply. But when your only point of reference is Desperate Housewives, and you're a cocktail waitress with a wild imagination, it was a logical fear. _FYI Mom, Ray is not dead. And it's not a watch, it's a smart wearable,_ but she didn't write that.

" _I'll tell you about the business trip later. Oh yes, I'll pay for the ticket,"_ she offered her an incentive.

 _...And then you can come to check Oliver's freezer if you like._

There was prolonged silence. Felicity was sure her mom needed further coercion beyond her standard pleading procedure. And while logical reasoning might not work with Donna Smoak, Felicity knew what did.

 _"I'll get you that Balenciaga bag with matching scarf for Hanukkah."_

She pressed the send button and waited for her mom to accept her bribe. Accurate to her prediction, a reply buzzed instantaneously.

" _I'll be there this weekend,"_ and the tension had officially dissipated at the mention of a bag that cost two thousand bucks.

After rifling through his wardrobe, Theodore rushed in a suit to meet Susan, his cousin. It's been months since the last time they spoke, and he couldn't help but wonder what had triggered her request for assistance.

"Hi Theodore, my favorite, and charming cousin. It's been too long," she said a little too sweetly.

"Now you just called me favorite and charming; this concerns me," Theodore teased. They exchanged little pleasantries, and Susan asked about Elizabeth and the children before prompting her real intention for the meeting.

"Theodore, I need your assistance," she went straight to the point.

"Yes, I've figured," he chuckled.

"Since real estate is your expertise, I need to find a property with these criteria," she handed him a manila folder with a sheet of paper inside.

She watched amusedly as her cousin's eyes gradually widened as he skimmed through the bullet points on the document.

"You are thinking of buying a luxurious condo," a hint of disbelief lacing his voice. Instead of giving him an answer, Susan just smirked knowingly.

"I have my ways."

"And how are you going to pay for that without selling your kidney? You just moved to your apartment last year when you accepted that job as a reporter for Channel 52," he recounted, reminiscing about his cousin asking him to be the guarantor for her large mortgage. "Has your boss lost his mind and given you the company?...Or have you slept with him?"

Susan laughed. "I'll tell you later. It's a surprise."

Theodore shook his head. Susan may write juicy columns and headline news for a living, but she had always been mysterious when it came to her personal life.

"I smell something along 'I-am-moving-in-with-someone line' here," he stored the stash into his briefcase. "He's not a gangster or a drug lord, is he?"

"Maybe?" she shrugged in faux-innocence. "Just find me the property, and I'll spill the rest."


	5. Chapter 5

Oliver didn't come on time that evening.

Good thing Felicity had ordered Big Belly Burger delivery. She consoled herself with a bucket size caramel milkshake while watching William eat in silence. After the boy ate, she took him upstairs to change to his new Ninjago pajama.

Considering that her master bedroom was in the better, livable state than the second bedroom that had become the dumping yard, she took William and helped him to settle in there. After giving him a few pointers of where to locate the toilet, his clothing, and his toothbrush, she left him to sleep.

She went down and was greeted with emptiness. A half-built Lego set, and three large boxes stared mutely back at her.

As much as she tried to ignore the loneliness, there were still days when she wished she didn't sit on her couch eating take-out for dinner alone or crawl into an empty bed, or have no one to talk to about her day, and after spending a couple of hours with the Elizabeth's family, in the house full of people - the quietness of her apartment suddenly felt oppressive.

Despite her qualms about opening her house for the boy, there were reasons why she agreed to help to house William. This was a chance of her seeing more of Oliver. Selfish, she knew, but she couldn't deny that she missed having him. She missed having him running around the kitchen presenting her with his latest culinary artwork. She missed seeing his incredulous expression when she displayed a lack of brain-to-mouth control. She missed waking up seeing him laying next to her, smiling drowsily with hair stuck up all cute in odd angles. She missed being able to hug him for no apparent reason. And although he wasn't a Doctor Who or Harry Potter type, she cherished her time with him, every minute and every second of it.

She often wondered, how she could stand a chance with Oliver in the first place.

Felicity had heard of Helena Bertellini - the first girl Oliver dated after he was back from captivity. Their relationship was hardly a romance, but more a convenient, logical hookup between two lonely, broken fighters who found consolation in knowing each other's dark secret.

And then came Sara, another physically abled woman who was as deadly as him. Being with Sara had given him the necessary mental assurance. She was a lethal weapon in her own right and not dependent on him, or any man for emotional support or protection.

Of course, there was always be Laurel - the woman he fell back to when he couldn't devote the time or energy to build a new relationship. Different from any other women he dated, Laurel was one of them that tolerated his childishness. But even then Oliver couldn't harbor himself with her permanently.

All through the course of his relationship with various women, she had become the force in Oliver's life that had remained constant. Whether it was her luck or the universe had written his name on the tablet of her fate, she had become his little blonde sidekick...with an utterly undeniable crush on him (as his mom said, it's hard to hate to resist a bad boy who is a good man).

Then given the right time and place, he finally noticed her.

Felicity couldn't blame him. She was remotely his type. Even she'd imagine his girlfriend would be a badass like Helena or Sara, not an IT genius that known how to use her laptop as a weapon better than a sword.

She'd imagined that he'd be into someone graceful and poised like Laurel, not a chatty girl who had no brain-to-mouth filter when she talked.

With William's return to Starling City, Felicity predicted that she would've been swept into a forgotten corner, just like a few years ago when Sara emerged right from the dead.

She felt slightly ashamed of herself of her jealousy over an unadulterated, naive soul like William. But that was some honesty in that.

Okay, William may not be a lethal assassin, vigilante/superhero badass, a hot lover, defender of the helpless like Sara, Laurel or Helena was - but to Oliver, William was more than that. Oliver eventually let go of Sara, Laurel, and Helena after acknowledging their principal differences.

….But Oliver would never let go of him.

But her envy quickly transformed into pity. She had firsthand experience of what it was like to have an absentee father. Of course, there was a fundamental difference between Oliver Queen and Noah Kuttler. There was a stark disparity in their motivation and the reason for their absence - but to a child who understood nothing but the presence - and feeling of neglect would taste all the same.

Her eyes accidentally fell on the space on her digits that were missing something, Elizabeth's apologetical smile replayed in her mind. Despite her and Oliver's mutual agreement to end their relationship, it was hard to keep the disappointment and regret at bay.

She parked herself in front of the laptop, trying to occupy herself while waiting for Oliver.

"Oliver, a regular babysitter will likely to put a hefty fine for leaving their child a couple of hours late," she rehearsed to herself, eyes staring at the static image on the screen of her cell phone. But as the minutes and hours ticked by, her annoyance progressively turned into worry. Regardless of lack of punctuality, Oliver normally would give her a good reason for not showing up on time.

It was likely he was caught a real moment of crisis.

Then, a firm knock on the door followed by a green leathery silhouette staggering into her living room. "Felicity…-"

His voice broke through her bubble of musing and she leaped on her feet, feeling relieved. But the feeling was short-lived, spontaneously morphed into fear when she noted the way he limped and clutched to his shoulder.

"Oh god, Oliver!" Her stomach churned in a lethal combination of trepidation and copious caffeine intake. "What… what happened?"

There was a visible wound on his shoulder, a deep bruising on his cheek and his steps were slightly tipsy and careless. Oliver had never lost his footing, even in the dark. Stumbling was normally her job. Considering he was still dressed in his vigilante getup, alcohol would be the last thing that caused his inebriated state.

"Another vertigo case on the move. I found….their drug lab," he summarized briefly. And he didn't have to elaborate any further because her brain immediately weaved the rest of the story.

"They drugged you!"

Felicity considered to have a long-winded lecture about why it was important for him to always have a backup, whether physically or through the comms, but she swallowed her protest when he winced in pain and guided him towards the couch instead.

For a split second, their eyes met. She gives his arm a different kind of squeeze then, her touch softer, slower, and he knew what those touches meant.

"Felicity, I'm fine," he said, trapping her fingers between his and returning her squeeze a touch firmer. Of course, it was a lie. He couldn't even walk straight. His words were solely for her mental benefit.

"Well, your body certainly told me otherwise," she replied, relaxing her grip a little. "Stay here," she told him, gentle but firm. Just one stern sentence from her had put the mighty Arrow in his place.

She really hated to see him hurt, whether it's a small cut, a bruise or a serious internal bleeding. But Felicity couldn't deny there was a part of her enjoying the thrill of 'playing doctor' with him. In the sense that, she could show him that she cared.

Oliver threw himself on the sofa while Felicity rummaged through her bathroom cabinet. Thankfully there was a remnant of Oliver's mysterious herb, she couldn't even remember who had placed it there.

"So… William?" he prompted, wiping his mouth after glugging the bitter herb Felicity had given him.

"He is asleep. His playdate with Oscar, the neighbor downstairs had worn him out," Felicity reported while applying antiseptic generously on the abraised area on his cheek. "Sorry, this may sting a bit. And then we'll have a look at your shoulder."

"Felicity, I'm honestly fine," he insisted.

"You expect me to sit here being pretty and mock you in pain? I know you have a high pain threshold Oliver, but I can't afford to have my cleaner off duty because of a bad arm."

Oliver just bit his lip at Felicity's clever quips.

Felicity tried to clean what appeared to be an injury from a sharp, pointy object on Oliver's left shoulder. However, soon she realized she couldn't dress his wound with him still wrapped in his leather suit. She only cleared her throat, but the growing tint on her ears had spoken her mind.

"Is it even comfortable to wear this leather suit? I can imagine how hot it makes you feel - and by _hot_ I mean temperature wise, not _hot_ hot. Although… you are still looking hot in it. In fact, you are hot in anything. Ok, I will stop saying _hot_ now."

"Do you want me to comment that statement?" he said, tilting his head looking amused.

"Did you just use the public entrance in your Arrow suit?" she diverted the conversation. "What if someone spotted you?"

"It's nearly 1 a.m in the morning. No one is downstairs. Even the security guard is nodding his way to sleep. And I figure I don't want to scare you by jumping in from the window in the middle of the night - if I still could jump."

"Still," she muttered. "Remind me to erase the security camera's footage later."

He stripped off his leather jacket and didn't miss Felicity's eyes that stealing a quick glance and appraising the shirtless view before her appreciatively.

After she had done applying antiseptic and secured the wound with a bandage, he finally pushed himself to his feet, but his legs were still shaky. He closed his eyes for a second and found his center. Then he took another step and tipped forward. Felicity tried to catch him by bracing him with her hands on his shoulders, while his hands that moved in reflex to stop him from falling had ended up slamming right into her face.

"Ouch!"

"Felicity, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?"

For a moment their face was so close to each other. He removed her glasses gently, rubbing the sore spot with his thumb as though the movement would alleviate the pain.

"I'm… fine. It's just my glasses almost permanently implanted on my face," she said. She could feel every scar and ridge of his hands burning on her skin. "And if it did, you owe me a plastic surgery."

As it turned that she didn't need a plastic surgery at all, but his gesture of thoughtfulness was appreciated nonetheless.

"Are you sure you are not overdosed with cold medicine or something? Because your hands are trembling."

The truth was her nerve of panic combined with an unhealthy amount of caffeine intake to keep her awake caused her body shaking in overload. "It's the caffeine. I think I've might have overshot the daily dose."

She had been waiting for him.

"Felicity…" he said with regret.

"Hey, I'm fine. No need to apologize. It's not your fault. Besides, nothing could top our _explosive_ first date," she smirked as she emphasized the word explosive.

That moment Oliver was reminded what kind of remarkable girl Felicity was. She was the voice of positivity in the direst situation, she had encouraged him in every way possible. She was his hope, and she had found him, helped him, saved him...when he just about to lose himself. She was his light and his future.

How he wished he could tell her that, right now.

Ten minutes later they were sitting out on balcony underneath the stars sampling a variety of Big Belly Burger's latest menu.

"So, how's your day. Did you manage to get to know our neighbors?" Oliver was the first to ask.

"Yes, it was a pleasant playdate," Felicity reported with a smile reminiscing Elizabeth and Oliver-Twin. "A hot mama as my new friend, and her _filthy_ rich husband."

"I can tell you have something against rich people," he said teasingly.

Felicity chuckled. "Until this afternoon I think most of them were an arrogant prick."

"Are you saying I am an arrogant prick?" he said in faux-annoyance.

"You are not rich, Oliver."

"I _was_ ," he told her. "Does that mean I used to be classified as one?"

She shrugged, matching his playful banter. "Maybe?"

Oliver leveled her with his famous stoned-face expression.

"I'm just kidding," Felicity said, rubbing his forearm and smiling mischievously. He thought she looked beautiful in her pink hippo prints pajama, a messy ponytail and a red mark on her nose from where he accidentally bumped her in her face. No, even _beautiful_ sounded so small….so inaccurate to describe her.

"Thanks for the dinner," he said quickly when he realized Felicity had caught him staring.

"I'm sorry if it's as romantic as you'd hope for," she commented, picking up a piece of bacon that went astray and looking out over the city that was faintly lit by the moon.

"It's the thought that counts," he replied, biting the last portion of his burger and licking his fingers ungracefully. Felicity smiled as she watched him eat, there was something deeply intimate that Oliver had let her see past his usual steely and warrior-like demeanor.

"Besides, I owe you an apology. I should've come earlier and cooked you your favorite cheese omelet," he said, breaking her stupor.

"If you are going to admit that I am _right_ to have fast food delivery tonight, I would need to record this," she said in a tease.

"I have to say your sixth sense and prophetic ability are truly remarkable," he countered. "By the way, I read one of a scientific paper that eating excessive fast food will shorten your life by a few years."

Felicity narrowed her eyes, "Oliver, you just make me regret my generosity."

They stood quietly in comfortable silence. Sitting right in the same spot on the balcony had triggered many bittersweet memories.

"How long has it been since I was here?" he asked.

"A year, give or take."

He nodded contemplatively. "A year is a long time."

"Indeed," she pulled a deep breath, and a nostalgic smile fell on her face. "A lot has happened since."

 _...But I have never get over you. Just so that you know._

Oliver remembered what kind of man he was before he met Felicity. He was a man with a mission, a mission that rooted in revenge and hatred. But then Felicity walked into his life, or….he showed up at your cubicle. And she changed everything. He was in darkness. But with her kindness, her generosity, her compassion, her intelligence, her wit, and her trust, she brought him into the light. She let him know that he deserved it, that he was loved. It was the way that she made him feel was the best part of his life. Felicity was the love of his life and he just wanted the chance to be hers.

For a second he wrestled with the idea of telling her how he wanted her back in his life, not as a friend, but as something more. But at the end, he settled with an offer. "I'm free for the evening, want me to accompany you watching Harry Potter?"

Her brows drew a confused knot. "Oliver, it's like 1 a.m, and you have work tomorrow. You don't want to be caught sleeping on your foot on your meeting."

"My first meeting is at 10 a.m tomorrow, and that's with Lance. I can survive one episode of Harry Potter while you were waiting for your caffeine hangover to wear off."

Felicity sighed. "I shouldn't have consumed four sachets of instant coffee just now. Now I felt like energizer bunny at the wrong time of the day."

"Exactly," he said, already made himself comfortable on the sofa. "So, pick your movie. Before I change my mind."

"Wait, are you….are you serious?" she added, eliciting a small laugh from him.

"Yeah, anything for my girl," he laughed, and he could see how she tried not melt at his words.

"You'll regret what you've said," she bantered back, trying to remain casual and shoving the thoughts of the implication in his statement which hinting something more than just platonic. She didn't want to get her hopes up over reading too much into this.

"Don't blame me if tomorrow a picture of drooling mayor circulated in Instagram. That is totally not my fault."

He grinned. "Thea had bought this super cool coffee machine in the office. Nothing a caffeine boost couldn't do. Just accept my offer as a thank you for patching my shoulder."

Without warning, a pair of warm lips pressed against his side. And his pulse jacked up faster, so fast that he could hear it thrumming in his ears. Since when did a chaste kiss provoke such an intense reaction in him?

"What was that for?" he asked, voice more hoarse than he liked.

"That's for coming back safely tonight," she said, reaching up and pressing her hand to his cheek. He smiled at the contrast of her smooth hand against the roughness of his scruff. "I don't know what I do if you were…-"

She averted her gaze but Oliver didn't miss the evidence of tears that glistened her eyes.

"Felicity…" His hand returned the sentiment, caressing her skin in a way that he couldn't exactly qualify as platonic.

"Please promise me, never to go confronting anyone alone. We are a team, Oliver. We suppose to lean on each other."

He couldn't help but reach her shoulder, pulling her closer to him and inhaling the scent of her bubblegum shampoo. "I promise. Sorry to make you worry tonight."

It's a relief to feel her melt into his arms, even if she is more careful than usual about resting her weight against him. A minute later, she finally mumbles into his chest,"You don't want William to lose his father - he just got you back."

They snuggled quietly, And he wondered if, had he known how things would turn out and his place in the future, he would be a little a little wiser, more cautious with her heart and more honest with his secret.

After returning back from that island, he had made a promise to himself to be a better man - a man that worthy of her love. Because he realized it wasn't being in love that made him happy. It was the person that he was in love with that did - and that person was currently nestled right next to him.

"Oliver, are you okay?" she asked him as the title credits began to roll. "You are very quiet."

He tore his eyes from the screen and found her watching him with a soft expression. He wanted to bring up the topics of their relationship, but he was reluctant to risk the future of the girl that he love and how it to fit into the whole schematics of his new life.

"Felicity, I..-"

"Yes?" she replied, punctuated with a loud yawn. It's been a long day.

"Nothing," he said, gently pulling her close into his arms as she nodded to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Felicity yawned sleepily when she thought she heard a muffled sound from the master bedroom upstairs.

She found herself laying on the leather couch in front of the TV, tartan blanket pooled on her lap. Perhaps it was the large dose of caffeine she consumed, but she strangely felt cozy and warm despite the cold air penetrated from the tall windows that practically made up the entire wall of her open space living room.

She stretched her stiff arms, and suddenly her warm, auto-cuddling pillow stirred.

And she caught the sight of Oliver, lying still, with one of his arms extended, wrapping her shoulder protectively.

She took a moment just watching him sleep, perusing his scruff that had gone without a shave for too long, and watching his eyebrows so relaxed in oblivion and his soft lips parted slightly. And her mom's words from earlier on that night her echoed in her head.

 _M: "So...what are you doing at this unholy hour at night?"_

 _F: "Working some slides for tomorrow."_

 _M: "I thought you are off sick?"_

 _F: "Still Mom, the slide won't do itself."_

 _M: "Oh honey, you have to take care of yourself. Can't you ask your colleague with nice hair...Curtis, to do it for you? I'm sure he has enough IQ to figure things out."_

 _F: "That's ok Mom. Curtis is on a hot date; I hate ruining his mood. Besides, I couldn't sleep."_

 _And for now… work was truly a much better alternative than thinking about her complicated relationship with Oliver._

 _M: "Felicity, honey. I know you love your job, but if you are trying to replace relationship with this_ — _don't do it. Your job won't love you back."_

 _Felicity decided not to respond, but her mother seemed to be able to read her mind through the cellular network between their phone._

 _M: "Is this about Oliver? Honey,_ _if you still had feelings for him_ — _don't deny it, not to me, but to yourself. You both might no longer engage, but you had a real connection. From the beginning I could see it, I think everyone could. I can see he needs you the same way you needs him. You and Oliver made each other better._

She hated to admit it, but her mom had been right. Or at least she _wanted_ her to be right, especially the last point.

A sound of soft whimper reminded her what had awakened her in the first place. Carefully disentangled herself from Oliver's arm, she climbed upstairs into her master bedroom and pushed the door carefully.

"William?" She pushed her way into the bedroom. "Are you okay?" she said softly. Even when his eyes looking down at his toes, she could see tracks of dry tears marking his cheek.

"A nightmare?" she asked him again, sitting on the edge of his bed.

He nodded, hugging his knees closer.

"Want to talk about it?" and she realized the boy may not feel that comfortable sharing thing with a stranger just yet. "...Or shall I call your dad?"

He looked up at her and shook his head insistently before saying. " _No_." There was a glimpse of betrayal in his eyes that she recognized.

"I don't need him!"

 _Ugh, that was unexpected._

But, thinking about it— William's outburst was logical, given the context of his situation. In his eyes, his absentee father was the root cause of his current predicament. He didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to his mom, the closest, dearest person to him… and now he was forced to move in with a stranger.

William's situation triggered a voice of empathy in her. The elusive figure of Noah Kuttler was only made known to very few. Her memory about him was mostly vague, augmented with her mother's story of her struggle which predominantly caused by his selfish decision to leave.

Noah Kuttler had made a terrible choice with his life in uncontrolled gambling, binge drinking which eventually drove him to the edge of bankruptcy. He wasted his talent and brainpower to do crime instead of earning a decent living—which Felicity knew he was perfectly capable of.

In recent years they were reunited, although under less than ideal circumstances. But it enabled Felicity to see beyond the facade of 'bad-dad' prejudiced that she had permanently attached to him. Although he would never fit back into her and her mother's life, she was given a chance to see that her father loved her dearly.

Noah may have been a terrible dad, but that didn't stop him from loving her.

In retrospect, Oliver may have been a Noah Kuttler to William. He was the same absentee father who suddenly emerged out of the blue wanting to have a relationship with him. And if there was anyone who understood how hurtful, angry and confused that may feel—it's her.

Oliver, like her father, may have made poor choices in the past. But what important was he desired to get better, and as Noah did, he just needed a chance to proof William that he loved him.

"I had a father," she began. "He wasn't a good one. He abandoned us when I was little, leaving my mom scraping for whatever job she could have to keep the roof over our head and food on the table." The words just flew out of her mouth with no concern of potentially showing her vulnerability. "In recent years, I came to know my father. He was still the same selfish, childish man with impulses to match. I had no respect for him until, one day, he took a bullet that was meant for me."

She cut her glance to the side, just wanted to see William's reaction. The boy's expression had softened and seemed to listen to her story attentively.

"Then I realized, It's time to shed the past angst I have towards my father now. He made his mistakes, but he's trying to fix them."

It was an instant, undeliberate act of bonding as she told him honestly about her origin, and the atmospheric grimness she felt earlier had gradually dissipated.

"Where… where is he now?" he asked her tentatively.

Felicity shrugged. "I don't know. He comes and goes whenever he likes."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

She shook her head dismissing the pitiful look in his eyes. "I'm a big girl. I don't need my dad that much anymore," and gave a pause. "—But you do. You don't want to miss growing up without your dad as I do. Because anger is temporary, but regret is forever."

"But, you won't ever be lonely. Because you have my dad," he looked up to her for affirmation, "—right?"

It took her a few blink to digest in her head what he was asking. She wasn't sure how much Samantha had divulged to the boy… or he had outstanding perceptiveness in reading the situation.

 _Oh boy…_

"How do you—?"

"—know?" he supplied, "Mr. Wilson told me." Then he bit his lips, fearful look on his face,"—but he told not to tell you. Because you will kill him."

 _Ok, surprise number two._

Apparently, her shock was very much prevalent on her face because William subsequently winced. "Please don't tell him that I told you," he said, half pleadingly."...except if you can kill him before he kills me."

Felicity chuckled at that. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who had an acute condition of speaking in sentence fragments. Perhaps it was contagious.

"I promised," she said, and William breathed out a sigh of relief. For a moment both of them just stared, wide-eyed at each other.

"I don't think I can go back to sleep," she announced and William hummed his agreement almost immediately.

An idea flew into her mind. She scooted closer. "I'm sure your dad will put an arrow through my head me if he heard this," she whispered conspiratorially. "...but I heard ice cream is the best post-nightmare remedy. Would you like a little bit? There are Chocolate Fudge, Cookie Dough or Strawberry Sprinkle, take your pick," she prompted. "My favorite is Strawberry Sprinkle."

"I don't like strawberry," he admitted."...but I won't say 'no' to chocolate and cookie dough."

"Right, two scoops of Chocolate Fudge and Cookie Dough coming right up."

Felicity prowled quietly into the kitchen, making sure she didn't trigger Oliver's survival instinct that seemed never sleep even when his eyes remained closed. She congratulated herself when she managed to return upstairs past Oliver's ninja surveillance and opened the tubs and hand William one of the spoons.

Minutes later, they sat on the bed, enjoying their ice cream and having a light conversation about her unconventional childhood in Vegas.

Suddenly Felicity felt stupid for her blind jealousy yesterday. She shouldn't fret that someone else might become more important to Oliver. William wasn't entering the competition on purpose. He was thrown into it. Besides, she shouldn't be jealous at all, because Oliver not even hers.

Her musing was interrupted when William let a loud yawn. She peered to check the time. "It is 4 a.m. Shall we try to sleep again now?"

"Do we have to?" he said beseechingly. "I don't want to have another nightmare."

"Okay, how about… I stay here until you…—" and she had another idea. "—wait here, I think I know what will help you settle down."

She pulled a pale green, plush looking elephant with soft, bushy tail from inside her closet and put on her best Olaf's voice. "I am Snuffle, and I like warm hugs."

William accepted the toy. "I have never seen green elephant before," he remarked with nonchalance. "Does he come with this color?"

The creature may look unnatural (the right adjective was actually 'bizarre') for many people, but for her, the color green represented metaphorical embodiment of her secret love for the hooded vigilante, but of course, she won't admit it. Not in front of William.

"Yes, I know it's highly inaccurate scientifically because there is no such thing as green elephant," she went on. "—And I'm sorry if he smells a little bit like my shampoo, I just slept with him last night. And when I say I sleep with him… I mean platonically sleeping with him. Which is not…—"

She registered William flummoxed look and immediately revised. "Ok—nevermind, forget I that say anything," she said, readjusted her glasses on her nose and hoped that he didn't think she was crazy for speaking her incoherent thought out loud.

"Thank you," he told her, giving the elephant one hearty squeeze. "He is nice and soft."

She wanted to add that Oliver was better, but that sounded inappropriate.

"—And smell like bubblegum!" he exclaimed after inhaling its scent.

"Glad you like it."

She settled on the edge of the bed, scooping the last few bite of her ice cream while William and Mr. Snuffle tucked cozily under the blanket. She was pleased her first solo debut doing impromptu pep-talk with William turned out much smoother than she had anticipated.

 _Have patience with your father, William. He only wants what is best for you._

* * *

Oliver's internal clock rang in his head before the first rays of the sun filtered through the window.

Scrubbing his face with calloused hands, he was alerted from his slumber when he realized the space on his side had grown cold and empty.

To reassure himself, Oliver abandoned the couch to check on Felicity, needing the sight of her and touching the warmth of her rosy skin.

The spare bedroom where she supposed to be sleeping was deserted, so he checked the master bedroom where William had slept in instead.

From the gap of the door that had been left slightly ajar, he heard soft sounds of snoring and his lips curled into a satisfied smile.

William curled up in the middle of the bed, arms entwined around the plushy toy he had intimately recognize as Mr. Snuffle—Felicity's cuddling buddy—a Hanukkah gift from Curtis and Diggle. He vaguely remembered there was an ongoing joke about the toy with keyword 'Green' and 'Romantic' subtext, but he couldn't understand exactly what.

Then, his eyes traveled to the other side of the bed, where the object of his thoughts lying on the edge with one arm sprawled over an empty ice cream tub, spoon still glued to her hand. Her chest raised and fell with the rhythmic of her breathing; her hair fanned out around her head like a blonde halo. She looked adorable in her sushi pajama, and her glasses were a bit askew on her nose. But it was the affectionate look on her face made his heart melt. Knowing Felicity, he could imagine a likely scenario that led through the secret ice-cream session with William.

It was that little, completely insignificant detail, but there was something suffocating and warm about the perfect sight of the two of them. He remembered a conversation he had with Diggle.

 _"What are you afraid of, Oliver? Are you afraid of the consequences of actually loving someone?"_

" _...Isn't that an irony that you suit up every night to save the city while you can't save your own relationship?"_

The main problem was he didn't think he could save both the city and his relationship. In years of his crusade, he had been through far too many experiences that led him to believe he had to choose one of the two sides of the coin, and standing in the middle wasn't an option.

He had learned this time and time again—the hard way—that happy endings just didn't seem to happen when you are a lonely hero who had to fight alone because having someone you love would become your weaknesses.

He stopped at the doorframe, taking a moment to look at her and gather his thoughts.

It would've been so easy to tell her, to say with his lips how much he loved her, to invite her into his life.

It wasn't rejection that he feared...but her acceptance.

Felicity had always been his most loyal confidant who jumped willingly into any sort of danger to help him, and he feared he wouldn't jeopardize her life and her future by pulling her deeper into his problem.

She was already generous enough as she was, opening her home and her heart for William, sharing his parental load and obligation…. and he couldn't risk having to break her heart again, or putting her life in danger, no matter how desperate he wanted her to be his.

 _...Because she deserves more than a broken man and a future with a child than not even hers._

But after Lian Yu, he couldn't imagine going a day without seeing her.

Maybe… maybe someday he would hang his hood so that he could have a normal life. An ordinary life that involved work in the daylight and riding his bike that didn't comprise of chasing after criminals. A normal life where he could stop worrying about her safety.

 _Someday._

He smiled before pulling the covers over the two of them.

"Sleep tight," he says softly, not really expecting a response, but it reassured him to keep her name on his lips. He caressed her cheek with his hand, and the smile on his face was a little different than ones he had given her before...like he was finally letting her see the emotions he had been trying to keep concealed from the world.

Pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead and he heard her mumbling something uncomprehensible.

* * *

Felicity woke up when the delectable scent of something sweet had awoken her from her slumber. Rubbing her eyes sleepily, she found she was in her own room, a blanket covering her figure.

She heard the sound of the television out in the living room flipping on and what sounded like morning news floating in through the walls. She padded slowly to identify the source of the mouth-watering scent that led her right into the kitchen.

Oliver was baking.

By the look of it, he had done a few rounds of jogging and now standing in front of her stove, all sweaty and shirtless with a spatula on one of his hand. Heaven knows, she'd had plenty of recollection featuring them in the Arrow Cave with an opening scene's credit went to his notable Shirtless Workout.

And when you are trying to forget that you used to have a special feeling for someone, it was not helpful to be presented with the intimate view of his chiseled abs, glinting wet skin, and a snug fitting trousers on his hips. Talking about taunting your R-rated imagination, this would be it.

"Oliver?" she murmured.

"Hey, you are awake," he affirmed in a sweet moment of subliminal recognition. "I made you your favorite: Choco-mint brownie," he said, sauntering closer and gesturing her to try. "And I've made you and William some packed lunch."

She smiled, taking a generous bite and abstractly wondering what had triggered an overnight upgrade on Oliver's operating system. "Who are you?"

He replied her banter with a grin.

The brownie was amazing, as per Masterchef standard, various sophisticated flavor exploded one after the other, but her lust-addled brain was hardly paying attention to whatever inside her mouth…. and more towards his abs.

"Felicity, are you okay? You look like..—" he trailed off when he noticed the way her eyes darted down methodologically from top to bottom on his water clad body and gulped thickly.

Suffocated? Perhaps. Or maybe the worst case of brain aneurysm.

He stepped closer, eyes dropped down to her lips, and Her brain alerted her when he was entering her kissing range. _Whoa!_ Felicity was sure if Oliver kissed her she would explode spectacularly.

"Explode spectacularly? And why would it explode?"

"Wait, did I just say that out loud?"

"Felicity, you are hyperventilating. Are you sure you are not allergic to something?" he said seriously, checking on her skin. "Because _that_ looks like one serious reaction," he said, jerking her shoulder and taking a closer look on her face until she could feel his breath literally on her skin.

 _Oh! Don't do that._

Perhaps she was allergic to hot guys. Or was it just _him_? From her experience with Oliver, he was capable of pulling out feelings in her that she'd never felt before. It was a little overwhelming and scary as much as it was thrilling.

But just because Oliver trust her with his child didn't mean he wished to reinitiate their relationship. He'd been very specific expressing his intention in winning William's custody and keeping him safe were two of his highest priority. There was no mention of rekindling their romance nor having the conversation about _The Kiss_ liked he had promised.

"Felicity?"

She took a few deep breaths and tried to shake off the effect he had on her and put on her best inscrutable face, "Yes?" she looked at him and smiled.

"Oliver, I'm okay," she reassured, pushing the wistful thought away and trying to avoid tempting herself with such unrealistic fantasies.

 _Your life isn't a movie plot, Felicity._

"I better go upstairs and..—" She gestured at the stacks of boxes on the gallery. "—tidy up some of William's stuff. You… you just continue making wonderful brownies."

* * *

Oliver arrived at his office early that morning. He didn't want the social services gathered an impression that he neglected his other responsibility due to personal aspects of his life. The last thing he wanted was for her to have doubts about his ability to give both work and William the attention they deserved. But it was a losing battle. Even with depleting crime rate in Star City lately, all he had was three-hour sleep and barely any time to battle the never-ending bureaucratic demand that piled up on his desk.

Lately, the Mayor's office was overly crowded with personalities and complications. There were new faces who were brought in as replacement of his previous team, such as Mr. Delvin, who replaced Adrian Chase and Ms. Davis who replaced Rene. Naturally, both of them weren't quite familiar with his tendency not to share 'feelings' and showing body language that excued negativity and had since mistaken him for being unhappy with their work. Also, he had to do an extra effort maintaining staffs who were unaware of his moonlighting activity at night. On this kind of day, he began missing Thea (Rene and Lance included). Not only she had made his task in plowing a long to do list a lot easier to managed, her presence itself had kept his sanity intact, and made the sight of empty office less lonely and oppressive.

The hurried stacatooed oh stiletto hitting the floor drew his attention. Oliver glanced up just in time to see the glass door in front of them flung open. A brunette woman who accompanied the clicking heels barrelled into the room. She apologized profusely for her tardiness.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Mr. Queen. My antenatal appointment drags longer than expected," she said, drawing Oliver attention to her bulging tummy. "By the way, I am Jane Wilde, from the social services."

"Oh, that's quite alright. I'm not in a rush," he said pleasantly. "Hope you don't mind if come alone for this preliminary hearing."

"Of course," she said, pulling a pink manila folder. "Today I will just inform you what the social service expected of you. You can also highlight your concern and preference so I can give you advice or suitable help before the court hearing."

They exchanged pleasantry before Jane went into explaining Oliver's responsibility and obligation. It was all as what he expected until Jane excavated a photograph beneath the piles of papers.

"Mr. Queen. I understand that you wish to get William's sole custody and you want to keep it that way, am I right?"

Oliver nodded, and Jane pushed the photo so he could get a better look. It was a young family consist of husband and wife about his age, one toddler, and a black labrador. They were standing against a backdrop of a modest wooden cottage, rolling hills, mountain ranges with snowy peaks and wildflower meadow to complete. It looked like a scene came straight out of the Sound of Music.

"This is Annabelle Clayton-Schmidt," she pointed to the only woman in the picture. "She is a distant cousin of Samantha Clayton, who married Karl Schmidt, a German national and moved with him to Switzerland. I've been in contact with her, and she and her family expressed interest in adopting William."

Shocked, Oliver grabbed the picture on autopilot. The Schmidt looked like a nice family who lived in a beautiful part of the world.

"Is this the route that you'll pursue if I…—"

 _Failed_ —he wanted to say, but Oliver couldn't bring his tongue to say it. His heart clenched in his chest at the thought.

Rationally thinking, it was no doubt that the Schmidt could give William a better, more normal home than he ever would. Which was heartbreaking—because part of him wanting to give back the childhood that he owed, but another part of him wanting to be a part of William's life on more permanent basis. And after missing the majority part of William's life, having to settle for an annual visit wasn't what he had in mind.

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Queen," Jane replied with regret. "However, William will have a say on who he wants to live with. His vote will count into the final consideration," she said comfortingly. "Please understand that my job is to make sure William's welfare and interest is accounted for. We all want the best for him. I'm sure you agree with me."

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and schooled an inscrutable expression. "Yes of course."


	7. Chapter 7

Oliver had never been particularly good at discerning human emotion. Introspection and empathy had never been much of concern for him growing up. The folly of youth and disposable wealth had taught him to chase the next rush, to have as much fun without bothering to wonder what sort of repercussion might follow. Why should such things matter to him, when he had powerful parents and a bunch of friends who was arguably a worse influence than he himself?

'Consequences' was a new word for him—something that he'd grown intimately with after he returned from the island. He'd thought he'd have learned it by now, but still, on the top of his head, he could name a few. The reason why Felicity broke their engagement, Chase's mission, William's existence, Shado's and Laurel's death… all were his fau….—

"Yeay, we did it!" His self-punishing thought was briefly interrupted by William's ecstatic squeal.

From his peripheral vision, he could see Felicity was helping William building his entire lego set. It was surprising to see how the two bonded overnight. Felicity had never come across as a motherly type to him, but she seemed to have a hidden penchant entrancing the Queen boys. At the moment, the two of them were laboriously working on an airport and was in the process of making one intricate looking Airbus 737. Her trained eyes were firmly fixated on the instruction while she instructed William to help her fish the required bricks. Sometimes Oliver forgot how fastidious she was, especially things related to her intellect.

A sudden rapping on the door halted their activity, and William practically leaped from the chair to the door. "I think it must be them," Felicity told the boy as she opened the door, unfamiliar faces emerging into view.

"Hello Ms. Smoak," the children chorused while their mom embraced Felicity in a hug. Oliver followed to introduce himself.

"Oh! You must be our remarkable Mayor, Mr. Queen!" Elizabeth gushed. "I'm glad you moved back in."

"Please, just call me Oliver," he retorted, but he finished his sentence there without elaborating the status quo of their strange living arrangement. For a start, he wasn't supposed to be sleeping there. The arrangement was meant only for William and not him, even when he was quite sure Felicity would extend the invitation if he asked. The night on the couch was definitely unplanned, but not unwelcomed. But he could see how convenient it would be to just bunk together with Felicity until…—

"Mom, can I sit next to William?" The oldest boy said, diverting his mother's attention.

 _Thank god._

"No! I'll sit next to William. It's your turn to sit in front!" the little girl next to him butted in.

"No, William is my friend, not yours! Boys don't play with a sissy."

"Mom, Oscar called me a sissy!"

"Oscar! Olivia!" Their mother's stern voice halted their bickering. "Because two of you don't behave, so William sit next to Orlando!" Both kids groaned unhappily, but they knew not to challenge their mother's decision if they didn't want to be the receiving end of her wrath.

"Seeing Olivia and Oscar is like watching you and Thea," Felicity told him. "You can all be all mushy and cuddly one second, and grabbing each other's throat the next."

"That's sibling display of affection, Felicity," Elizabeth remarked.

"Thank god I don't have any sibling then," Felicity said teasingly.

"Anyway, we better go," Elizabeth announced. "You don't want your son to be late on his first day at school," she told Oliver. They'd agreed to go to school together on William's first day to make his transition easier.

"Please don't cry at the gate. And I mean you, Oliver," Felicity jabbed his chest, and he grinned.

"No promises."

* * *

Oliver tried not to get frustrated by his custody situation, but his apprehension, no matter how inconspicuous, had manifested in his action. After a few days of unexplainable quietness, reclusion, topped with his usual brooding inclination, an alert signal triggered Felicity's radar.

That evening she searched for her tormented compatriot and found him inside the Foundry. He was tackling a punishing run on the salmon ladder, pushing himself with anger-driven energy. Ok, he might be angry, but her brain couldn't simply discount the fact that he was shirtless.

And only heaven knew she'd had plenty of recollection featuring them in the Arrow Cave with an opening scene's credit went to the Ladder of Lust.

"Oliver…" She barely recognized her own voice, all husky and tremulous as her eyes tracked the tightly-corded muscles of his back, coated in a fine sheen of sweat. "What are you doing here?"

"Training?" he said without pausing, and by the look of it, he won't stop until his biceps explode.

"I've been your friend for years, Oliver. Do you think I don't know that you normally mask thing out with training?"

"What are you doing here?" he said in return. "You should be in your bed and get some sleep."

"Yes, you should too," she countered without much thinking. "Not going to my bed—I mean you get some sleep." She peeked through her lashes when she heard him jumping down from the salmon ladder, eyeing her with an amused smile. As usual, he wasn't making fun of her verbal gaffes. Not openly anyway.

Felicity cleared her throat and wore her serious voice to restore the atmospheric seriousness they had earlier. "Is this about the meeting you had yesterday?"

He considered lying but knowing Felicity would just read him like a book, he settled to tell her the next best possible answer.

"Maybe?" he replied vaguely—which reading by the edge of exasperation on his expression, it translated to 'yes.'

"What did they say?"

When he didn't answer right away, her eyes grew weary.

"Oliver," Felicity's voice was full of sympathy as she reached forward and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She steered him to the unoccupied bench and forced him to sit down.

"Take a seat, take a breath and drink this. Then tell me. _Everything_." She handed her a to-go cup of coffee that clearly she had bought beforehand. Automatically Oliver took it and lifted it to his lips, not caring about the scalding temperature.

For a moment he debated the merit of saving some of the details to himself. Despite his fear of Felicity's explosive reaction, he resolved to tell her every single aspect.

"So, they wanted a _normal_ family for William?" she asked incredulously. "Are they implying you are…. _not_ normal?" she scoffed.

He caught an edge of furious note in her tone, and he did her best to ignore the voice of the fear that he made a wrong decision. "Felicity…—"

"Tell them not to look further. You are his dad. A good dad. You care for William and, for the record, you've saved him twice," she barrelled on. "I will write to them and testify to them that you can fulfill all your paternal obligation," she emphasized. "—and more."

"Can I?" His raised brows, indicating he needed her to supply him with elaborate explanation.

"Oliver, you have all the support you need here. Digg, Curtis, Rene, me, my mom, and if Thea—"

"Wait," his eyes widened. "You've called your mom?"

"Yes, to help taking care of William when we are at work," she said, crossing her arms. "Your company—which is now technically mine, the Mayor office and our nightly business—," she cleared her throat. "—not the one that involves a bed. _Other_ business."

Before he could say anything, Felicity pressed on. "Oliver. We'll prove them wrong."

"You don't have to do this, Felicity," he objected. "You've helped me enough. You've let us bunk with you for the next one month."

"Forgive me for being blunt. I would like to remind you that, for the record, we lived together before for a good half a year. Are you honestly think I couldn't stand you for four weeks?" she feigned a scoff. "If your snoring habit has caused a major nuisance, rest assure that I will let my thought known."

 _Ok, no point in debating there Mr. Queen._

He fell silent, and Felicity reached for his hand. "We were partners long before anything else. And I'll help you with anything just like I have always been," she added. "We'll find a way."

"Felicity, I—," For a second he had difficulty forming those words.

It didn't matter what kind of title their relationship carried, but this was how it had always worked—they supported each other in each and every way. Even when there was no more 'them' and no possibility of romance, even when things between them didn't work as we had hoped. Their friendship was one irrefutable fact that would remain unchanged forever.

"Oliver, what's important to you is important to me. And I know how much you want to be a good father to William."

She was right. He desperately wanted _this_ —a cherished relationship with his son, to be a better dad than just a man who took part bringing him to the world.

"...And I'll do anything in my power to make sure you win William's custody."

Oliver felt his eyes moistened with tears and fought the urge to cup her face and kiss her senseless. He had known Felicity Smoak for a good five long years, yet she never ceased to surprise him. He remembered when the Arrow team parted their separate ways, Felicity was the only one who stood by him, to weather the storm together. She was the only one who cared for him unconditionally, whether they were friend or lover. Above all woman he dated, Felicity was one of them that tolerated his insufferable obstinacy and stood by him in his brokenness.

He had asked her for help expecting nothing but a month of sleeping on the couch and a cold shoulder. Now, sequestered in her apartment, she had offered him something he had never expected before: a home.

"All I'm saying is, you are a truly magnificent girl, Felicity. I've met many good people in my life, but I have never met someone with greater heart than yours—and I'm not saying this so I can stay here longer."

Both of them chuckled at Oliver's attempt to lighten the mood, and he settled with one long, sentimental embrace.

* * *

"Oliver, what's important to you is important to me."

She half turned towards him, her fingers grazing over his chest, trying not to think about where this sudden boldness was coming from, but fairly certain it had to do with the man in front of her.

And without alarm, he brought his arms around her, tugging her into him.

She forced herself not to look down, the feel of scar tissue under fingers that begged her to trace and map the badge of heroism he had earned for sacrifices he had made for others.

For a moment, she let herself melt into his embrace, feeling his hard muscles against her soft curves, relishing the sense of protectiveness that they carry. There was an itching underneath her skin, and Felicity dimly realized that it an urge to claim and possess, until her hormone-addled mind was reminded that now there was a pair of little eyes as a permanent residence in her home—and the last thing she wanted was an audience of her intimate exchange with not-so-platonic-friend.

"I am so sorry," she said hurriedly, extricating herself from the hug. "Barry told me you don't do hugs," she stated the first plausible thing she could think. "Which doesn't make sense because you hugged me before, plenty of times. Wait, or was it I hugged you? Or was it..."

"Felicity…—"

Her random babble stopped at his pursed lips, which immediately turned into a mirthful chuckle.

"Yes, I did tell him I am not a hugger," he admitted.

 _I'm glad you don't, and you still hug me anyway._

Yes, Felicity wished she could have that, that things were simple enough that she could embrace him whenever she felt like it. Taking a deep breath, Felicity pushed those thoughts aside. There were bigger things to worry about.

 _Avoid non-platonic conversation._

"I have something that would guarantee to cheer you up after a day of crushing disappointment," she said, steering the topics. "I heard chocolate had certain properties that lifting the mood."

"I thought they are aphrodisiacs."

 _Oliver, not helping..._

She pretended to be entranced by the view below them, but really she was trying to get a handle on her emotions which were all over the place and threatening to betray her.

"So, any plan for this weekend?" She stood up, thanking heaven for restoring her voice together with the control of her knee.

"No. How about you?"

She shrugged noncommittally as she worked on her latte and ending the episode with a loud slurp to cover her embarrassment.

Oliver watched her amusedly. He never realized how much she caused him to smile.

"Oliver, is it me or I caught you're staring," she said, sipping another measured gulp of the decaf latte and enjoyed the warm sensation cuddled her throat.

"Am I prohibited to stare?" he asked cheekily, watching his words turned her cheek few shade deeper than her raspberry blush.

"What about crazy golf with William? I used to do that with my parents as a child," Oliver suggested, making up for her silence.

Felicity considered the offer. Crazy golf, as in a public place, sounded harmless enough for a platonic date. There was less temptation for her to stare at his naked abs or to run her finger down his torso which given a chance could impose a real possibility that she might have spontaneously combusted. Melted all over the floor.

"Sound good. How about Sunday at ten then?"

Unfortunately, her resolve to keep things platonic between her and Oliver was soon facing a real test merely a few minutes later. After he used her bathroom to liberate himself from the clammy layer of sweat, he glanced at the wall clock to check the time.

"Ugh... it's almost 1 a.m. I'll better go back to the Foundry."

"Oliver, it's raining cats and dogs outside," she pointed out towards the window where the harmless drizzle had turned torrential.

"Felicity, it's water, not stone. I'll be fine. What worse could happen other than just getting wet?"

He had a point.

"But you'll catch a cold. The thugs would laugh at your nasally Arrow voice if they heard you." She resisted the urge to bang her head on the table. That was the most stupid excuse she had ever heard—even to her ears—and she used to criticize Oliver's ability in spinning convoluted cover story….Ironic indeed.

"Ok fine," he resigned and followed her upstairs.

Suddenly Felicity regretted that she had neglected her mom's advice replenishing the spare bedroom with an extra bed. Her mother had been nagging her to do so, saying that for the size of the room, even two queen size bed would look small. She ignored her mother relentless complaint, and instead, installing a large glass rack to exhibit some of her random tech-gizmo.

"What is it?" Oliver, despite being emotionally insensitive, had good perceptiveness when it came to reading her feelings.

"I am just contemplating where is the closest mattress shop around here."

"Oh," he said, discerning what she was thinking. "I can sleep on the couch downstairs."

"Oliver, downstairs is cold as hell. Two days ago we nearly turned into a popsicle in the morning remember?"

"I thought you like a popsicle," he said teasingly. At least she thought he was teasing.

"Oliver!" she smacked his arm lightly, and he faked a wince.

Felicity abstractly wondered if the last-kiss episode in Lian Yu had corrupted Oliver's operating system, causing him to become flirtatious all of a sudden.

"Ok fine, I'll sleep on the floor if that makes you feel better," he resolved quickly. "There is underfloor heating there. Flat, warm surface is good for my back."

"No, you are spending the night in doing pilates on my floor!"

"I'll sleep on the rug then."

"No, I vomited on it when I had that stupid cold. I mean, I did wash it, but still… mentally I always think something still lingers there."

"Now, you are not helping," he said. "It's ok. I can wear my jacket and sleep downstairs."

"Oliver!" she tugged his arm. "You sleep here, on the bed."

Before he voiced his objection, Felicity appended, "...with me. We've slept in the same bed before. I am sure this is fine."

"Are you sure? I can imagine you freaking out if we ended up tangled in compromising position in the morning. I don't want William heard you shouting and got the wrong impression."

Felicity gulped the large stone that lodged itself in her throat. Somehow a random paragraph from Fifty Shade of Grey recited itself. The fantasy had snowballed uncontrollably, adding an extra bow, arrows, and chain to the scene. And Oliver's deep, distorted Arrow's voice was definitely a turn on. Now…. that was the _wrong_ impression.

 _What the hell, Brain?_

"I'll be quiet even when I am freaking out," she said.

Oliver obviously saw how her pupils were dilated and her cheeks reddened with a blush. He grinned smugly.

"...And you told me I have practically no sense of self-control," he remarked, laughing openly. Indeed she had, long time ago, after his savage tryst with cantankerous Isabel Rochev. It's weird to think what had been scandalous affair back then became indisputably funny liaison right now, especially imagining Isabel's permanent stone-faced expression during intense making out session. It must've been like sleeping with a terracotta warrior.

"Are you sure you still dare to share a bed with me?" she could practically hear his smug grin reflecting on his words.

This time Felicity took his rhetoric as a challenge. She feigned an indignant scoff. "Watch your hand, Mister, or I'll give you bruise more than Deathstroke!"


	8. Chapter 8

_Oliver listened to Slade as the two of them sat up on the bar stool and nursed matching pints of beer and he poured out the joy and tribulation of his first week working in the Death Squad for the next hour or so._

" _So, that's basically my day, and I owe you a big thank you for introducing me to John Diggle so I can mention his name every time his wife threatened to implant a remotely controlled explosive on my spine," he summarized to Oliver. "And how's yours? You look like you've been struck by an arrow in your chest," he commented on Oliver's depressed look. "Is this about your son again? Is the meeting with the social service had gone badly?"_

 _Oliver didn't answer him, but his eyes did._

 _"Use your condom, that's the lesson of your life," he joked._

 _"Lesson learned," Oliver replied dryly._

 _"Nine years too late," Slade countered back, patting Oliver's shoulder and grinning coyly. Oliver regarded him with a deadpan look._

 _"Not saying that I'm a better dad," Slade added and looked at him with the eyes of someone who understood where he'd been. "Joe has yet to reply to my message. But I wouldn't blame him if he intentionally ignored my voice mail and my text, I haven't been in his life for over a decade. I am less a father more a stranger."_

 _Oliver didn't make a judgment on his statement, nodding in understanding without offering platitudes. There was a pregnant pause as Oliver recalled how his son was purposely being closed off and distant towards him. At first, he dismissed the notion of William's way to deal with a sequence of traumatic events, as the therapist in hospital referred such symptoms as a coping-up mechanism. However, after he saw how the boy bonded with Felicity, Slade and even with their neighbor, his suspicion solidified._

 _"He hates me," Oliver said quietly. After what happened on the island, it perfectly made sense if William still held grudges against him and avoided any meaningful conversation or interaction between them._

 _Slade's brow crinkled as he placed his almost empty glass back on the table before saying, "_ _Be patient but be prepared. It's hard choosing between being the man that people need you to be or the father that your son needs you to be….You and I walk between two worlds_ _―_ _but we can only do that for so long_ _."_

 _Oliver sighed. "I know…"_

" _And to win the battle, you can't do it alone," Slade said and addressed Oliver with a sympathetic look he rarely had seen coming from him. "Whether you believe it or not, your heart is good, Kid. And you are, at times, selfless to the point of infuriating frustration. But you must realize that you can't save everyone _―_ that sometimes you have to put your bow and your arrow down and let other people pick up your slack," he said. "I'm sure everyone in your team, especially Ms. Smoak, agree with me."_

 _His heart clenched on the mention of Felicity's name. There'd been a spark of unseen tension between them right after his unexpected encounter with Susan Williams. Oliver would like to think there was 'jealousy' involved, but it was more likely that Felicity was being pragmatic and just trying discreetly to keep their 'under-the-same-roof' relationship platonic. He definitely appreciated that, but he wished his heart would agree with his head. Just because Felicity was willing to be involved this far didn't mean she had any romantic feelings towards him._

" _I don't know how she can always find something good in me," Oliver breathed, reciting Felicity's pledge of adherence to winning William's custody._

" _Well, whatever it was, you can't deny your feeling forever. This may be just what you need," Slade replied from the rim of his glass._ _"Let me rephrase it better_ _―'_ _she' may be just what you need."_

 _Oliver contemplated those words. But before he told her yet again about his feeling,_ _he wanted to be the man who honored his promise... _―_ a man that deserved her love._

* * *

That evening, as suggested by Felicity as a means of father-son bonding time, the three of them were all huddling up on the couch, watching a few old episodes of Doctor Who.

Ten minutes into the first episode, Oliver figured out that the title was entirely misleading and had nothing to do with the content of the movie. The protagonist, a person they addressed figuratively as _The Doctor,_ wasn't a person with a doctoral degree, working in a clinic or any medical establishment. Instead, he seemed to be a timelord vigilante traveling inside a phone box, carrying a nifty screwdriver (which performed more tricks more than a magic wand) as a preferred weapon of combat.

"You like it?" he heard Felicity asked William.

"Yeah, it's kind of cool and weird at the same time."

She grinned lopsidedly. "I know it is."

Just as Oliver thought he had seen all the absurdity―the Doctor's biggest and fiercest nemesis made it into the scene―Dalek, which looked more like a trash can with a gun. The music suddenly turned into a dark crescendo. Oliver watched the tension that gripped both Felicity and William's face as the Dalek(s) collectively cornered the Doctor while chanting their 'exterminate' slogan with vehemence.

"Are you serious this is Doctor Who's greatest enemy?"

Felicity caught a slight mocking in his voice. "Yeah, perhaps a bit like you and Slade," she said.

Oliver's brows furrowed when his brain finished drawing the correlation. "Seriously?"

"You'll regret you've asked," she chuckled.

"That thing doesn't even have legs," he pointed out, in both wonderment and amusement on how could people actually enjoy being entertained by a lethal trash can. "It can't handle staircase." Just as the words left Oliver's lips, the Dalek in the film levitated off the floor and resumed their chase.

"Don't underestimate your enemy," Felicity said between the sip of her soda. "Your words not mine."

She glanced briefly at him. She realized that Oliver had been observing her with the unreadable look on his face. It's nothing new that Oliver often wore that mysterious, incomprehensible expression. He was very good at hiding his emotion, making it indecipherable but not unfamiliar. She had seen him bestowing her that kind of expression a few time since…―

Actually, she had no idea.

Felicity glanced away from him. Her eyes had fallen back into the movie and her hand absently grabbed the bowl of popcorn before passing it in front of William, offering him.

And Felicity's phone vibrated on the glass coffee table. "Oh, it's nine o'clock. It's bedtime." Oliver's announcement responded by a groan from William as he trudged to his designated bedroom. He wasn't sure why on earth kids despised sleeping so much? Perhaps he had inherited his Arrow's gene that often prevented him from sleeping.

Determined to spend some time with William, Oliver took over the bedtime routine from Felicity and accompanied William to brush his teeth and tucked him into bed. William's eyes trained to the imaginary point on the ceiling or wall, and his lips stayed shut.

"I've asked Felicity to play crazy golf this weekend. And if you want, you could come along," Oliver attempted on a conversation as he sat on the edge of the bed while William laid to his right and Oliver couldn't help but notice how he was studiously avoiding making eye contact with him.

"No, thanks," came William's succinct reply. Almost too quick, too direct and too apathetic that it... _hurt_.

Oliver tried not to dwell on such petty emotions and immediately erased any traces of wounded expression from his face. "Do you prefer baseball, or maybe basketball? Or…―"

But William already pulled the blanket above his head, curling mutely with his back addressing him. A clear signal that he was disinterested to care any less about it. Oliver sighed but decided to bury his disappointment for himself as he stood up and closed the door.

He didn't say anything when he padded into the living room to find Felicity still sat on the couch, eyeing him with concern and sympathy almost as though she could read his troubled thoughts.

"Hey, be patient. He'll come around one of this day," she consoled him by a gentle squeeze on his knee when he threw himself on the sofa right beside her.

"That's what Slade said," he said dejectedly, gazing into the blue depths of her eyes. He saw Felicity's gentle expression turned into a slight frown as though asking him to elaborate the statement further, so he did. "I have a few beers with him on Friday."

"Didn't know you spent your Friday night with him," she crinkled her nose and made a face.

"Is that jealousy I am hearing?" he teased.

"No. More like disbelief," Felicity scoffed although her expression softened," However for once, I agree with him. Slade was right, Oliver. You can't give up on William. He'll open up to you."

"You are really good with him," he admitted, trying hard not to sound defeated.

"It's not that hard to like him. He's a great kid." Felicity said, "Very polite and curious and he's got that Queen's charm and wittiness simmering. Don't be surprised if he could be awfully hard-minded at times. You definitely know where that's coming from. "

She giggled lightly when her remark translated into Oliver's deadpan look, and she appended, "But tenacity and perseverance could be useful when he grows up into a hero with a great heart like his father." She said it with such affection and admiration, Oliver's heart fluttered, perhaps because of combination of things. One of them was because of him, sitting next to Felicity in her sushi Pajama, her hair piled in messy bun and hands nursing a warm cup of chocolate milk. And when she smiled like this, open and free―he felt as though he didn't have the weight of the city on his shoulders, no fears clouded his judgment, and for a while, he allowed himself to be enraptured with her beauty.

Because everything that he ever wanted, he ever needed, was here. Right in front of him.

* * *

Felicity opened the boxes, began excavating their content with care. They mostly contained William's game console, action figures, a few soft toys, board games, and clothing. She carefully took out his belongings and grouped them in order before deciding which one would be kept in the loft and which one stayed in the bedroom. Then her eyes caught a sight of a thick, important looking folder beneath the stack of books that immediately grabbed her attention.

She battled whether or not she should peer into the content. It was none of her business really, but her curious mind couldn't help but wonder what was inside. Thus, she spent the next ten minutes, looking at the folder in her hands.

 _You don't have X-ray vision Felicity, just open it._

Inside the folder was copies of William's birth certificate, his passport and various medical files stating his health history and a tan hard covered album with "William Clayton's Journals" spelled by a feminine cursive on its front. Employing extra care, she took the book and leaved through the pages.

As Felicity had expected, she found a picture of a golden-haired baby, with bright blue eyes and pink cheeks, wearing a cute dark green overall smiling to the camera. There was another picture of a younger version of William, dressing up as Asterix and tackling a large teddy bear. Felicity smiled, even at his young age seemed like the Queen's heroic gene had cultivated and blossomed in him.

Naturally, quite a few of the pictures of William was of him with his mother, doing various activities like playing in the park, attending someone's birthday, swimming in paddling pool or simply enjoying a stroll somewhere. But one particular photo that warmed her heart was a picture of William pretending to stir an empty pot while a few pace away Samantha was doing her cooking. Felicity had imagined Oliver would've been thrilled if he was given the same opportunity to be part of William's life especially by sharing his culinary passion.

Placing the mementos back into the box, Felicity began noting a singular commonality. All old photo of William, whether in the cradle of his mother or alone, had always include his innocent, exuberant smile on his face. There was no hint of sadness in William that lived in her house felt like a completely different person. He wasn't the same carefree and cheerful boy as the photographs may suggest.

Losing his mother had changed William fundamentally, the same way Oliver had transformed into a completely different man after losing his father. The unfortunate incident with the Gambit that moored him in a purgatory had forced Oliver to grow up and leave that selfish boy behind. He was no longer the reckless playboy carelessly sleeping his way through a list of socialites. Oliver had resolved to repent of all his indiscretions and returned as a changed man.

"Hi." A voice behind her nearly made her dropped a stack of books and DVD she was arranging on the shelf.

"Oh, William. Come on in," she said, smiling gently when the boy shot her an apologetic look.

"Sorry, I don't mean to startle you, Ms. Smoak."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Good thing I don't have a weak heart," she said, and a smile broke on William's face at her tone of tease. "And please, just call me Felicity. I'm not your school headmistress."

"Okay, Felicity," William tested her name and smiled.

"I am just trying to get some important items you may need for the…―wait, where did I put your Batman vs Superman DVD?" For a couple of minutes, she was busy excavating mountain of books and then tried to restore the sense of order in the bedroom that strewn with stuff.

Then she caught William's eyes tentatively locked on his old belongings―his mother's picture in particular―and his little eyes looked at the photograph with a myriad of emotions in them.

Because of her personal history dealing with the difficult family situation, Felicity understood the finer details of how to deal with the pain of separation. "I will keep some of these back into their box. I only put the storybook, DVD and a few action figures for you to play with. I am sure my collection of bedtime reading of TCP/IP and Networking fundamentals isn't your cup of tea," she said, showing a couple of intimidatingly thick books that she had put aside to make way for William's new lego set, action figures and the recent Mindstorm project they'd completed. "But if you ever have a problem with bullies from your school and wanted to give a good lesson," she pointed at herself. "I reassure you―you've come to learn from the best. It is dangerous to mess with someone who can use the internet to draw punch and kick. It's coming handy."

A small smile tugged his lips. He had seen Felicity in action once. And she wasn't joking when she said it was dangerous to mess with her.

"Can I put this picture on the bedside table?" he asked, gesturing to one of the pictures of him and Samantha that looked fairly recent.

"Of course."

A next few silent minutes, Felicity was still battling the disheveled room. Her overzealous attempt to neatly arrange the entire toy collection seemed to captivate him―for a while. But as he glanced at the picture of his mother and the reality sank back in, Felicity could almost see the sadness on his shoulder, slumping morosely. And for a moment, she let him to quietly grieving his loss.

"Felicity?" she heard William's voice asked her tentatively.

"Yes?"

"Do you...do you know my mom?"

Felicity felt a rock suddenly lodged itself in her throat and the pit in her stomach growing exponentially. Her last conversation with Samantha echoed in her head.

"Yes... yes I do," she answered, feeling the pain in her heart reaching up and stung her eyes. "Although I only knew her briefly, I know she was a great mom." And her mind flew miles to Vegas, picturing her own mother who had raised her singlehandedly, fighting day in and out for each meal and putting a shelter above their head. "I can tell she loved you very much... and she'll be proud of you."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she nodded and swiftly tried to blink her tears away.

"Have your dad told you about crazy golf on Sunday?" she asked, keen to change the topic. "You are coming with us, right?"

He shifted on his toes uncomfortably. "I… am... _not_ coming."

"It would be ridiculous for two grown adults to play crazy golf. Besides, what's the odds of me beating your dad? So please save me from humiliating myself further on that by joining my team." And his completely unexpected reply finally hit her. "Wait―did you say you are not coming?"

The boy bit his lips and nodded quietly. Felicity could almost see how torn he was with his own decision.

"William…" she reached over to his hand and looked at him earnestly. "Have you not realized how much your Dad wants you to be there? How much he…. _loves_ you?"

"I thought it was... _your_ date?" he replied innocently.

Felicity laughed. "Don't be silly. If Oliver wants to take me on a date, she'll ask me to go to Italian or French Restaurant, not doing crazy golf. He was asking _you_ for a date," she emphasized by squeezing his shoulder. "I don't mind coming as a third wheel and you can evict me anytime you don't want me, but please… come with us."

"Felicity, it's not that…" he sighed, "It's just…―" he trailed off.

Felicity debated the merits of showing him something that Oliver had initially meant to keep until William was older.

"Wait, let me show you something," she said in resolve, guiding William into her bedroom and dig a small thumb drive from her drawer. "I know this is practically stealing but… this is a recording of what Oliver had recorded for you before we...―" She swallowed the word quickly and resumed, "―before you knew who he was. I managed to grab a copy it from the internet before he destroyed the original."

When one of his brows shot up, Felicity said. "Remember what I told you, internet skill can come handy, in every situation. Literally."

She turned on her laptop and slotted the thumb drive in. After a few silent moment of hard drive noise softly whizzing around in the background, a static image of Oliver appeared on the screen. And before Felicity pressed the start button, she placed a comforting squeeze on William's hand and looked at him earnestly. "Oliver just want to be the man honor his promise… to you and your mom. Please give him a chance to earn it."

* * *

The next day, Oliver psyched himself as he rapped the door on Felicity's master bedroom that had become William permanent residence. He had taken Felicity's advice on not giving up on William and proactively trying to build a bridge between them.

"William? May I come in?"

He couldn't understand why facing William made his stomach churned in the most unpleasant way. He didn't even feel this nervous facing an army of Mirakuru soldier, Damien Dhark, and Vandal Savage combined. Not to mention the evading feeling of guilt that he did this to him. He jaded him. And now his son was motherless. Terrified. Betrayed.

 _The worst can happen is him saying 'no' and slam his door. At least, you've tried, right?_ And eventually, Felicity's positive encouragement that resonated in his head won him over.

"Come in," said the voice behind the door, and Oliver twisted the door handle to find William on his bed, glancing up at him for a second before returning his attention to his book.

Oliver stepped inside, and stood there, bouncing on his heels as he rearranged his thoughts. "Look Buddy, I'm sorry if I overstep the boundary, offending you or whatever it was yesterday."

Despite his eyes were staying glued to the text in front of him, Oliver knew William was listening to him.

"I know the past few months had been hard for you. And I know you blamed me for part of it," Oliver continued. "I used to blame my dad for things. He wasn't perfect. Neither am I."

"But he loved me." He sucked a deep breath, recollecting his thoughts on how he could express whatever in his mind. "I know how much your mom loved you, she really did. But you have to know that the last thing she asked me was to take care of you."

By the sudden squeeze of his eyes, Oliver knew how bad the words tugged William's heartstring. Even when the boy kept his gaze fixated down on the book, his expression just looked so...sad.

"You don't have to like me to take care of you," Oliver sighed. He hated to make William sad, but he needed to pull the bandage from the wound to let it heal properly. And they needed this difficult conversation. "Because I'm your dad. Well… I don't deserve that title yet, but I hope you'll let me earn it. The way it works is I'm going to be there for you. Whether you want me or not."

It was then the boy lifted his face and their eyes met, and Oliver was relieved to see the enmity had left William's face, and with that, Oliver headed to the door. He had done everything he could, said whatever he wanted to say, and now it's up to William to…―

"The crazy golf, Is it on Saturday or Sunday?"

William's unexpected reply stopped Oliver at his track. It took him a while to registered that he needed to turn around and give William an answer. "Sunday, ten a clock."

"Okay. I'll be ready before then," William said with a definite voice as his attention fell back to his book.

As Oliver reached for the doorknob, he wondered what had caused William's sudden change of heart. Perhaps his little pep-talk had done a final push, but he was certain something else had changed William's perspective of him completely. Whatever it was, he'll find out later, because, at the moment his son has started opening up to him and his heart was brimming with happiness he didn't even know was possible to contain.


	9. Chapter 9

Felicity was sitting lazily on the couch enjoying a few minutes of peace while scrolling through slashdot and other tech-related-news on her laptop. This was by far her favourite pastime. Admittedly, it's a nice change to spend an evening at home in comfy clothes, resuming her previous life. Before Oliver. Before The Arrow. Before she lost her heart to the enigmatic, closed-off vigilante and his relentless focus on shouldering the burden to save the world and everyone he loved.

Her phone vibrated, and an icon that was showing a new message was displayed.

It was Barry.

B: "Sorry to disturb your night, Felicity, but I desperately need an honest fashion feedback."

His message followed by a picture of him in full tuxedo, black tux and silver tie. Barry was standing in front of a full-length mirror, wearing the happiest smile she had seen on him in a long time.

F: "Wow, you look quite a dapper! Remind me again why are you showing me this?"

B: "Well, I can't show Iris… and since all the men in team Flash here practically have zero fashion interest (Joe is really into baby clothing, and Cisco is more interested in designing another superhero suit than a wedding coat). So..."

F: "I see your sentiment there. Although perhaps red tie is better than silver. Red is you, right?"

B: "Good point."

F: "So, I take it Iris hasn't shown you what she'll be wearing?"

B: "No, she even refused to tell me. Bad omen she said. Although I overheard Caitlin mentioning something like 'mermaid-style', 'princess-cut with sweetheart neckline' or 'strapless A-line' gown. None of the words makes any sense to me except for the word 'gown'.

F: "Don't worry about it, she'll look fab. Just don't swoon in front of the altar."

B: "Thanks for the word of caution. I shall prepare my mental. Btw, how's Oliver and William?"

She glanced towards the master bedroom and hoped the father-and-son-talk didn't go disastrously now that Oliver had been there for longer than fifteen minutes. Well, at least she heard no indignant shouting, raising voice or sound of crashing object―which was good.

F: "They are good. Oliver is brushing his 'soft' skill at the moment."

B: "And how about you?"

F: "Me?"

B: "Yeah, the last time this whole William thing happened, I ended up with one broody compatriot and his pouty technical support."

The comment had no malicious intent, in fact, she could just imagine Barry's dumb, boyish grin.

F: "Oliver is always broody."

B: (laughing emoticons) "Broody mayor with nice abs. I can't believe it until I heard Iris was raving about it."

F: "You can't keep _running_ from reality, Flash. Time to invest more time in the gym."

B: "It's hard to resist a bad boy who is a good man."

B: "Sorry, didn't mean to say Oliver is a bad boy. Although he kind of was. I still remember the episode when he was unconscious from blood coagulation and the first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to jump up from the med bay to put his grip on my throat."

F: "Oliver had I-kill-you-before-you-kill-me reflexes, sorry about that. I should've warned you."

B: "None taken, I will remember that next time I need to inject him with the rat poison."

F: "And I'll invest a better restraint."

B: (laughing emoticons) "But honestly, I hope you find your way to each other because the smile he gave you was more than his usual Queen-tabloid-smile."

B: "And every hero deserves to be happy, right?"

It took her longer than usual to reply Barry's last message even though it only took her to type, "Yes."

B: "Okay, I better go to bed now. Iris already sent the invitation on the post. And thanks again for giving your valuable fashion input."

F: "Night Barry."

B: "G'night..."

Sitting on the sofa, she continued to stare at the display of her phone. The image of Barry's smiling face in his wedding updo made her reminisced Oliver in his sleek, black attire when they set up a fake wedding ceremony to capture Carrie Cutter. He had looked so handsome, even when his expression and his smile wasn't as exuberant back then...

 _Felicity, before I met you, I had a plan. I had a way that I was going to be. Then you walked into my life, or I … I showed up at your cubicle, and you changed everything. I was in darkness. But with your kindness, your generosity, your compassion, your intelligence, your wit and your trust, you brought me into the light. You let me know that I deserved it._

 _You were that light. And I don't know if I still deserve that trust, if I deserve you—I probably don't—but whatever has happened, whatever will happen, the way that you make me feel is the best part of my life. You can ask me to say that I don't love you, but I will never lie to you again. You are my always, and I just want the chance to be yours._

She knew it was a made-up wedding vow. But some part of her wished it was real, that he had meant every word he said despite their broken engagement. They both had survived the Cupid, but their relationship did not. She had tried to move on, to tell herself she could love another man, but as days and months went by, the fact only became clear that she couldn't.

However, fate had been so kind to put each of them on the same path again, but also incredibly cruel by separating them with an invisible wall of priorities. Yes, at the moment her romantic life wasn't a priority, helping Oliver to be a good dad and to win William's custody was.

And although they had fallen into some sort of unspoken domestic rhythm, she knew that Oliver's presence in her home wasn't going to be something permanent. He had made it clear that this was a temporary arrangement right from the start.

"Hey." Oliver's voice had brought her back to reality. "Did I… did I disturb you?"

"Oh, no, no!" She locked her phone in a hurried fashion. Thankfully he didn't see the trace of sadness in her eyes. "Nothing important. I was just waiting for you to... ―" she trailed off and seemed to just notice the brilliant smile that so prominent on his face. "Ah, the conversation has gone well I see," she smiled, patting the empty spot on the couch. She had been insisted that Oliver needed to have a heart to heart conversation with William. She knew, from personal experience, that things often broken by things left unsaid, deeds that left undone.

He settled into the cushions, letting his head fall back. He didn't say anything but the smile on his face did.

"Is that the "You are right" medley I am hearing?" she grinned, "Or you just a tiny bit afraid to get evicted by your landlady?"

He finally said it out loud. "Yeah, you're right."

"Oh my gosh, did you knock your head?"

"No. But Curtis accidentally upgraded my operating system."

"Very funny!" Felicity smacked his biceps.

He feigned a wounded look and rubbed the spot where she attacked him as if it hurt before turning a little more serious. "You are right about me needing to be patient with him, about waiting for him to open up to me," he explained. "And I'm not saying this to keep my space on the side of your bed. William is coming with us on Sunday," and she could hear his smile growing.

She smiled back. "Congratulations." A new brand of warm contentment spreads through her as she basked in his joy with him. In the fact that he'd shared it with her among all people. "That's a good step forward."

"Yeah," he said.

"Apparently you are good at this double vigilante-daddy duty more than I expect you will," she patted his shoulder.

"Well, I have quite an awesome teacher," he said.

"Your word, not mine," she bantered back.

"Felicity...?"

"Yeah?" She looked up at him and for a brief moment saw a play of emotions cross his face. There was a glimpse of anxiety as he sat quietly, rubbing the knuckles of his hand with his thumbs as though formulating the right words to say. After many years knowing him, although Oliver was an expert in compartmentalizing his emotion, she had been able to sense Oliver's muted feelings just by looking at him.

"Oliver, is everything okay?"

He inhaled deeply before resuming the conversation. "There'll be another meeting with the Child Protection Agency and Social Services next week." There was a hint of hesitancy on the way he broached the subject.

She tilted her head, not sure where the conversation was going."Okay?"

"They will need to interview William this time," he said, directing the statement to her. When he paused to swallow his emotion, Felicity could only guess this _'interview'_ would involve the possibility of William to be adopted by his distant relatives or probably something else along those lines.

"Do you think you can come and accompany…. _him_?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, a sign when he was anxious. "I guess he would be a lot less nervous if you were there," he finished. Honestly, Felicity didn't think a nine-year-old would be as apprehensive as his father who knew he could lose the custody of his son to a _stranger_. Yes, loss could be inescapable sometimes, the world was unfair like that.

"Of course, I'll be there," she promised. Even if there would be a crucial board meeting that day, William was a far more important matter to attend to.

 _Unfortunately, you're my favourite person on this planet, Oliver. If you asked, I would even die for you._

Worries left his face, and his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Please don't."

Wait, did she just spoke the words out loud?

"Because I still need you to help William with his math, I overheard him fretting to Oscar about the upcoming test."

She pursed her lip to bite a growing grin. She could just imagine the young Oliver Queen slumping in absolute boredom, watching his teacher with forced attention in algebra class while perhaps his mind was wandering to some random, leggy girls he would meet later on in the club. Thankfully, his parents had sent him to Starling High, the only boy's school in Starling, so their son at least had some fighting chance of paying enough attention to absorb the information necessary to scrape out a D.

"Did you say anything to him?" Felicity asked out of curiosity."Let me guess. You'd say something along the line "Just relax. I would've been psyched to get a C…" She grinned knowingly while straightening her glasses that were slightly skewed.

"How do you know?" Oliver regarded her with a curious look.

"Because I know you," she said simply. "I guess your son didn't have a luxury of having parents who practically owned the school tennis court and had their name on the front of the library. They could save your out of your math misery without batting an eye."

Honestly, luxury or not, and even if she ever had parents who could make her school headmaster bowed at their will, she had priorities, integrity and she didn't put getting plastered before good grades, ever. She had always valued hard work, and she knew Oliver agreed with her, even if he never modelled the same behaviour when he was younger.

He sighed pensively. "And every time I open my mouth I make it worse."

"So, the man who took down Damien Darhk was bested by arithmetic," she teased.

"It wasn't my strongest subject in school," Oliver contended.

"Of course, and math isn't everything. Moreover, I knew perfectly that you've other redeeming quality," she said more seriously. Oliver might be a multiple college drop-out and constantly getting conduct slip for his lack of interest on pursuing academic excellence and abandoning his homework, but his years in the island had proven that he could be brilliant if he tried. Not everyone could mastered martial arts, foreign languages and survived five years being hunted by various people if not because he had some outstanding intellect.

"Like you've great leadership skill, you've great hand-eye coordination. You've amazing abs…" She bit her lip to stop the words from escaping, but it was too late. While Oliver just looked deeply entertained by her verbal gaffes and furious blushing. "No, what I mean to say is… you are a great man, Oliver. And I'm sure in time, William will be able to see that greatness in you."

A moment of understanding passed between the two of them, and Oliver gave her a small smile that she could only interpret as admiration. "Were you always like this?"

"Always like what?" she said with faux innocence.

He turned to her, and for a moment she thought she felt his finger on her blonde ringlets. "This clever. Like you make it sound so…. _simple_."

If the fern that sat on the coffee table had eyes, it would've seen her blushed.

"Yes, I came out of the womb with a spec! The doctors were baffled," she said, choosing to take into a comedic detour to cover the growing heat on her cheeks and dismissing his praise even though it sounded like a melody in her ears.

He didn't laugh at her joke. Instead, he paid her with a generous smile that reached far into his eyes. "So, you can teach him?"

"Sure. On one condition," she replied, trying not to fidget as she met his bright blue eyes that sparkled with amusement. "Don't stop making those pancakes for breakfast. And can I request extra egg and bacon next time?"

Her request elicited a small chuckle from him. "Of course, nutritional breakfast is obviously very important things for a growing girl like you."

* * *

The next morning Oliver kept his promise and made her the special breakfast. He watched her with the tail of his eyes as she perched on by the kitchen counter, quietly flipping through her mail. They stayed like that in comfortable silence until suddenly Felicity's excited squeal broke the stillness.

"Oliver! Look at this!" She waved something that could've been a VIP invitation to some tech-conference somewhere else, except that it wasn't.

"After so long, finally…" she sighed with happiness as her eyes scanned the card in her hand. "Barry and Iris are officially getting married!" She handed the invitation to him so he could have a closer look.

"Oh wow, that's news," he said, perusing the card on his hand.

"Do you know they had known each other for nearly two decades, under the same roof!"

"For the fastest man alive, he is incredibly slow in getting his girl," Oliver couldn't resist commenting.

"True," Felicity responded thoughtfully. "They've been together as siblings and a couple for a while. Iris even dragged him once to get married in jeans."

"No way!" he let out a breathy chuckle, "There is a very fine line between craziness and pure genius."

"Remember you've told Barry before that man like you two didn't get the girl? Well, I think you are wrong," she said offhandedly.

Was that an accusation? A comparison? Or…an implicit way of saying that they stood a chance too? He didn't know what to feel or react. So he just stared at her, schooling his face to something inscrutable and bland.

If the Gambit had never sunk, if his father had never laid his life for him, perhaps right now he would be lying on a beach somewhere with a beautiful, exotic woman on either arm, caring nothing about the world. Perhaps he would become a party animal, sleeping off last night's hangover with his dad breathing down his neck about responsibility. Or perhaps he would keep the persona of the happy-go-lucky boy that made too many mistakes and never meant any of his apologies.

But then life happened and he was moored in Lian Yu. There were so much death and destruction that the only good thing he had to hold onto was the image of his family and of Laurel. The island had put his selfishness and childish attitude towards his privileged life into perspective.

And the tragedy that took his father's life away had honed him into wanting to be someone else, because his loss would stick with him for the rest of his life, coiling around his heart and squeezing whenever he thought of his father's selfless act of sacrifice on that boat.

When he returned back, despite how everyone tried to think he was the same man he once was, he knew the truth. There was nothing normal left in him. The island had turned him into a shell of who he once was, a shadow of the boy―useless and spoilt to an astounding degree and expecting so much different from what he found. He was a cold-blooded killer who wanted nothing but to right his father's wrong.

Then he met Felicity.

She was sitting behind her desk that practically strewn with multicolour folders, books and notes all over it. He paused for a moment, taking it all in, feeling slightly out of place in a world with so much brightness. Finally, he focused on his target and flashed his playboy-smile.

And that's how their story began.

It was funny to think about how their life had crossed, of the stark contrast she looked at things and approached the world. They were different. They always had been. While he was filled with anger and snide, Felicity was literal 'happiness' surviving in a world where nothing but pain seemed to surround them.

But that's what made her special.

He liked that integrity came first with her, that she clung to every hope that there was a better way of doing his crusade than just becoming a methodological killing machine. She was kind, rational, and hopeful where he could be resentful, bitter and cynical. She didn't see the world with rose-tinted glasses, but she didn't focus on the terrible either. She was just a super intellectual girl who wanted to change the world into a better place.

Sometimes, he wondered who he would be if he hadn't met her, if he'd still be striking names off the list, if he'd have accomplished as much as he had, if he'd even be alive. He wasn't healed. He wasn't sure he ever would be. But she had brought back pieces of him that he'd once thought were lost: the ability to laugh, to be happy… to love.

* * *

That bright Sunday morning, three of them headed to the crazy golf course as Oliver had planned.

"This… ―" Felicity said as they entered the threshold of the park, "...brought memories. My dad used to take me to play when I was small. The one that we have in Vegas had gnomes that squirt water everytime you passed by in front of it. We enjoyed it so much I even begged my dad to buy a have a lifetime membership in exchange for the Motorola 68000 motherboard for my birthday."

"Oh wow, how old were you then?"

"Seven."

Even though Oliver had seen that answer coming, it still didn't stop him from gawking mentally. "You must seriously like it if you were willing to trade it with… what's that again?"

"Motorola 68000. I was learning assembly language for fun and wanted to try it on something."

"You are learning programming language for fun?" It wasn't a question, more of an incredulous statement.

"Is that judgement I am hearing."

Oliver smirked. "No, just pride."

"Did your dad get it for you? I mean the crazy golf membership?" William piped in.

"Of course not," Felicity half-frowned as though she was still traumatized by her father's unwillingness. "Even though I convinced him, mathematically, the life membership will pay for itself after exactly 52 regular weekend visits, and that's a year, plus, the life membership gave you a $10 Big Belly Burger as a bonus reward. It's not just economical, it also saves us money!"

"You must be so good by now," William concluded.

"I let my skill speak for itself," Felicity said jokingly.

They walked to the counter to purchase their entry tickets and decided how many holes they would like to play.

"It's been decades since I played this," Oliver said rhetorically as they collected their clubs and golf ball and headed towards the first course.

"I am very bad at aiming things, until… ―" His words hung there, and he paled slightly, realizing he had almost divulged the most brutal part of his life. Although William knew he was the Green Arrow, he still wished to spare the boy the gruesome history of the crucible that had shaped him into one of the fiercest fighters.

"Until?" William was expecting him to finish.

"Until I let Felicity taught me." Now it was Felicity's turn to blanch, but there was no room for manoeuvre, so she decided to play along.

"That's right, I am the former Queen Consolidated champion three years in a row," she fibbed. Oliver bit his lips, desperately stifling his laugh. If anyone knew her well by now, was that Felicity Smoak owned a brain-to-limbs coordination of a drunken giraffe and had zero pain tolerance.

"You did?" William said in awe. Not only Ms. Smoak was a Minecraft whiz and Lego master―now she was claiming to be a maestro in crazy golf! And she wasn't just any golfing master―she was actually the teacher of his father―a man who could plant arrows on moving tennis balls every single run. He was close to worship Felicity as a god.

"I want you on my team!" William exclaimed.

Felicity nodded approvingly before turning to Oliver."If I win, I want you to swap sleeping on my side of the bed."

"Fair enough," Oliver agreed, twisting the club in his expert hand. "If I win, you'll come to Barry and Iris' wedding as my plus one, wearing anything that I'll tell you to."

"Deal," she said without thinking. So Felicity got herself a team-mate, two against one in a hostile competition for bed-picking-bargain versus wedding-date-deal ensued.

* * *

She watched closely as Oliver held his perfectly golfing posture. With one sure, precise hit, he swung the club. The ball rolled, through the windmill's door into the tunnel and glided past the hole and…..it missed! She could hardly believe it. It was one impeccable shot! How could he... _missed_ it?

"Oh!" Oliver slapped his forehead dramatically, mocking a deep disappointment.

Next, was Felicity's turn, which did badly but not as bad as she thought it would (e.g: the ball completely strayed out of the golf court).

But what surprised them was William.

The boy stood and spread his leg, placing the club in between them. He eyed the hole scrupulously while taking a few experimental swing. Satisfied with his assessment, he hit the ball. If the there was no paternity test available, seeing the way he swayed his club executing one flawless swing would be one of them. He let a triumphant cheer as the ball lingered and went into the hole. It was a hole in one. Felicity shouldn't be surprised. The boy was a Queen after all.

"I've been lucky," William said humbly.

As the competition wore to the end, it became clear that Oliver had purposely missed all the chance they had earlier. The course got progressively more difficult, but Oliver could easily strike a hole-in-one without much effort. Felicity began to tense, with that wearing-whatever-you-told-me on the table, she couldn't afford to lose―not that she distrusted Oliver's good taste.

They watched as Oliver send another perfectly executed hit. The ball rolled past all the obstacle and lingered slowly approaching the target before rolling into a hole.

"No way!" exclaimed William in amazement.

"That's impossible!" butted in a guy in uniform. The name tag suggested his name is M. Freestone. He must've been one of the park attendance. "The entire decade I've been working here, I have never seen anyone strike hole in one of this course. It can't be just luck, not on this course, it must've been the skill."

"Don't encourage him," Felicity said to the interloper. Oliver grinned.

"Wait, I know you," the man said, pointing at Oliver while squeezing his memory. "Oh, Mr. Queen...Our Mayor! I saw you on the TV!" He approached Oliver and shook his hand rapidly. "Nice to see you and your family spending the nice time here in the park, Mr. Queen."

"Please, just call me Oliver," he replied congenially.

"I have to say, you have quite a talent," the attendant continued to flatter.

"I practice a lot as a child."

"Really?" The man countered, clearly think the scenario implausible. "But looking at your precision and accuracy, it hard to believe that you… ―"

"The terrain I used to play is a lot harder than this. There are rocks, cliffs and all that. It was on one of my father's private island," Oliver added, closing the possibility for the man to ask the geographical existence of this fictional golf course. "And I had a Grand Slam veteran to train me."

Felicity nearly burst out laughing while Oliver continued spinning his way into another inconceivable cover story. Oliver may have beaten her fair and square at the game of crazy golf, but she would not let him to entirely enjoy his victory.

"Wait, so your father hired this mega expensive teacher to coach you―so that you can play crazy golf?"

"Yes, he was a billionaire," Felicity chimed in. "And billionaire do _stupid_ things."

"Can you try and see whether you can do it again? Please?" the man asked Oliver. Or more like _demanded_ him _._

Oliver nodded compliantly and prepared his stance. This time the man pulled out his phone and tapped on the camera icon.

Right enough, it was just like another replay. It was like watching poetry in motion.

"Unbelievable," said the attendant as he stopped recording and posted the video on the internet. _There goes Oliver's ten seconds of fame in the making._

If the _Team_ (with a capital letter) ever decided to explore weaponry diversification, the club and the ball could be a good weapon alternative. She could just imagine how lethal the metal stick and a hard ball in a hand of Oliver Queen. Unfortunately, _Team Golf_ didn't send the same intimidating chill or threatening vibe as _Team Arrow_.

"I see that you are just beginning to utilize your aiming skill," Felicity said wryly, nothing Oliver began to close the score gap between them. "I can't believe you are going to let your boy losing this game." While she knew her motor-coordinating skill won't be anything close to Oliver, she was an expert in blackmailing.

"Well," he whispered. "I may be a gentleman, Felicity, but I am no loser," he goaded, smirking lopsidedly at her before swinging his club. "You'll come with me to the museum. Just watch."

Oliver's impossible performance had attracted a few more people, who began to assemble around the course. They hooted a victorious cheer as soon as Oliver strike another hole in one. The fearsome match ended with a slim winning by a mere two points.

"Do you ever consider joining the Olympic team? Or some professional tournament? I bet you can earn better bucks than posing as our Mayor."

He chuckled.

"Seriously," she said again. "Why do you limit yourself playing crazy golf when you can be as rich as Tiger Woods?"

"I don't need to," he said calmly. "Because I already have all that I need. I have a home, enough food to eat, nice things to wear, good friends, wonderful family… and you."

* * *

A subtle buzzing noise from his phone alarm had awakened him from his slumber. Yesterday, they went out shopping for another Lego set and headed for dinner at the Table Salt to celebrate his victorious win. It was close to 10.p.m when they returned home and Felicity still insisted she wanted to introduce him to Harry Potter.

Deactivating the device, Oliver was surprised to see the digital clock read 1:35 p.m. He had slept for seven hours non-stop, which was the longest he'd spent sleeping in the three weeks he had arrived. How could it even possible.

Because the comfortable warmth nestling in his arms was not a throw or the early November sunlight shining through the apartment window. And the warm, gentle puff of air hitting the side of his neck, caressing his skin in the nicest possible way, wasn't a wayward heat from the dimming fireplace. But Felicity, laying beside him, leaning on him, wrapped in her blanket, striped pattern standing out in stark contrast to his fair skin. Her hand that once gently laid against his palm over his stomach has migrated somehow, between sleep and wishful dreaming, towards his pecs, finding its home right above his hearts. And her body, delicate and small, pressed completely against every inch of him, comfortably curling in his terribly awake being into her blissfully unaware one.

It was like he was holding his entire world in his arms.

And yet the thought of her waking up and finding them in this _predicament_ ―if such a word was actually fitting―wouldn't make this weirder. For she would actually find this nice, normal, as he does in a way. Which is the part that is strange and a bit unsettling.

Because how did they go from 'unthinkable' to cuddling on her sofa on a lazy weekend, while still remaining completely platonic?

He knew the attraction was always there. Felicity was beautiful, Oliver wouldn't deny that, but not super-model or Kardashian's kind of beautiful―and yet that what made her... well, _special_. Her penchant for rambling and random chattiness had an unexpected effect on him. And despite bearing the title of CEO of a billion-dollar corporation, Felicity was still… _Felicity_.

She hadn't become a materialistic barbie that only wore couture gown, owned perfectly manicured hands and sported perfect blonde ringlets. She still cut coupons, use discount cards and complained about his ludicrous, expensive taste with little means to make them met. Her kitchen cabinet was bare, and her fridge was as austere as someone who lived in World War II. She still drove that crampy mini copper….and seemed to enjoy the ordeal they got every grocery trips, trying to think of a creative way to put the passenger and the grocery in one single load. She still enjoyed huddling together watching Doctor Who accompanied by cheap Chinese takeaway. Oliver may have endured a spartan life during his period of captivity, but it wasn't out of choice.

There was a testament of strength in her that told him she earned her place in this life and that she didn't take the easy way―and this what made Oliver found her deeply endearing. Not only that, as their friendship progressed, she had proven to be the light he needed.

Felicity was a wildcard - an unexpected but welcomed anomaly in his life.

She was filled with the colour of excitement, honesty and laughter. She had this inner confidence and fire that attracted people to her. Oliver had dated various women, but no one else quite liked her. Perhaps, it was her vibrant smile and never-ending positivity that made him realized how austere and lonely his life was ever since that islands and how much he craved to escape from the darkness that seemed to swallow him whole. She was the one who taught him how to smile again, how to be happy again….and how to love again.

Truthfully, Oliver had a hard time discerning the tone of their _new_ relationship seemed to be heading. And the fact that he was able to hold her again as they cuddled in sofa, everything felt so distant and surreal. It was like things had returned to the way it was. He knew they would be phenomenal together as a soulmate and partner in crime and…. ―

" _No._ _Because you have a history of breaking her heart,"_ the unwanted voice in his head reminded him.

Oliver immediately shoved the thoughts. It's selfish, and one of the many self-conscious and treacherous parts of himself had fought the notion, the simplicity and pleasure taken in this life he shouldn't be able to partake in; that he simply doesn't deserve.

But he felt his body grow heavy at the thought that he'd have to let Felicity go. Again. Could he do that? Now that he had a chance to get her back, could he let her leave? The years without her had been filled with so much regret, at the decisions he had made, the secret that he kept and at the things he had never said.

No. He shouldn't allow emotion to cloud his judgement. He had promised to remain as friends than to embroil Felicity in another romantic promise that potentially could endanger her existence.

In front of him, Felicity pressed her lips together, studying him for a bit, before she suddenly asked, "Is everything okay?"

Oliver jerked slightly, he didn't even notice when she opened up her eyes. He was so enamoured by Felicity his brain had turned him sappy and unfocused.

Shaking the haze from his mind, he told her, "Yes. Everything's fine."

Oliver felt her gaze unerringly settle onto his prone form. He wondered whether Felicity could see right through him.

"Fine?" She sounded sceptical. "Just _fine_? Oliver, I can tell that you have something you want to tell me."

He tries to ignore the panic the flares inside his chest. Everything is great, of course, but he's suddenly feeling nervous for reasons he cannot explain. They stood in silence for a while, Oliver getting lost in his thoughts. Such a large part of him recoiled at going through losing Felicity again; but a small part of him, the part that loved her the most, only wanted her to be happy―even when it meant a life without him.

"I was just thinking about...I know we've talked about it. About this _arrangement…_. About William staying here, about him getting used to me, and it might be a little weird."

"You mean about us?" The corner of her mouth tilted upwards. "I mean, confusing right? For him. For us. For me. For you. But I don't want to add more to your plate."

For a little while, Oliver was caught mesmerized by her unconscious grace. The way she tucked a stray hair behind her ears, the way her lips pulled up to a smile. That was the best weapon in her arsenal and Oliver was disarmed, helpless and unable to control his traitorous heart. He was _Smoaked_.

"No one will understand why you come out from my apartment without raising questions about us, you know… ―" she gestured vaguely between them. "Not just tonight. Another night."

 _Here is your chance. Tell her now!_

"So… do you want to talk about it?" he looked at her earnestly.

And there was again the look that made, and his heartbeat raced, and his stomach flipped in a nicest possible way.

"I would love to talk about it," Felicity finally resolved.

But fate be damned, because suddenly the door flung open and the word, "Surprise!" exclaimed by familiar voice had completely paralyzed him on the spot.

Next to him, Felicity's jaw fell open.

"Mom?"

* * *

Note: I hope you've enjoyed this week's chapter and, as always, I would love to hear what you think!

Question to the fandom: is it just me, or I still find it weird that Oliver put a huge trust in Slade Wilson? I still can't believe he trusted the man who had killed his mother and left the team (while they are in Lian Yu). Or am I missing something here?


	10. Chapter 10

Note: Sorry for my late update. Blame it on Black Friday! Here is a few little interaction from Donna's perspective, and hope Oliver would hear what she had to say. Happy reading!

* * *

"Oh, Baby Girl!" Donna greeted, all smiles and cheer. "I've missed you so much!" she exclaimed as she pulled Felicity into a tight hug that rivalled a choke hold.

"I've given her the spare keys!" Felicity whispered loudly back at the way of explanation when Oliver raised one brow at her.

"Mom, what are you doing here?"

"Felicity, honey. You've invited me..." Donna said, laughing into her hair.

"But... it's just 6 am," she breathed out, untangling herself from her mom's arms.

"But my flight was a weird late one, and I was going to just get a hotel room for the night, but then I remembered that you and your bunch of friends rarely sleep―which is normal since your workplace is right underneath a nightclub― So, I figured you would still be awake… or already awake…. and I was right!" she explained.

Felicity resisted an eye roll or a facepalm or anything of the sort and just smiled weakly, "You're right," she sighed.

"By the way," Donna craned her neck to take a subtle look at Oliver. "Did I disturb a…―?" she fiddled her pink nail, looking sheepishly towards Oliver who fidgeted awkwardly in a way Felicity had never seen him do.

 _Wait, is he blushing? Is that even possible?_

"I didn't know you are still in bed at this time, but...I won't mind staying in bed a little longer with such companion," she simpered, eyeing specifically towards Oliver who steeled on the couch like a statue. Felicity let out a long-suffering sigh. She was amazed at her forty-nine-year-old mother's ability to make herself sound like she was a hormonally imbalanced pubescent.

Their moment of awkwardness was interrupted by the rattling sound from Oliver's phone. Picking the receiver up without thinking, he greeted Rene on the other line and murmured something along like "I'll be right there" before excusing himself to leave.

"Sorry, an _urgent_ business," he said apologetically, to which Felicity mentally deduced the business must've been Arrow related. "I have to go," he told both of them.

When Felicity looked reluctant to ask whether her help was required, he touched her hand in a reassuring way and told her, "Don't worry, Rene is on the case. You stay here...," he briefly glanced at Donna and smiled," and have a good time with your Mom."

 _Yeah. Good time it is._

* * *

For a couple of hours, Felicity managed to distract her mother doing Thanksgiving shopping and stocking up her kitchen with necessary festive food. They stopped by Big Belly on the way home and met Curtis to discuss work-related matters. After Curtis left, they stayed a little longer, chatting about light topics, about her mom's boss who had a knee replacement and about her new ventures with her friends as a make up artist.

"So, you have any client yet?" Felicity asked.

"Yes," Donna said, smiling. "But they are mostly friends and family. We are still trying to build enough credibility and establish a solid portfolio before looking into engaging with a serious client."

"Sound like a good plan," Felicity nodded, agreeing.

For a moment, the not-so-easy-to-explain living arrangement with Oliver was averted. But as soon as they returned to her apartment that evening, the topic surfaced upon noticing Oliver vacuuming the floor. They exchanged a few pleasantries before Oliver returning to his task.

"So you two are back together?" Donna asked with a hushed tone, eyes tracking the glimpse of shirtless Oliver who was moving the furniture in place diligently and checking for spots of dust in each and every corner.

Felicity could only groan resignedly knowing there was no other way than to clarify the situation. "Mom…"

"Or you have a better explanation than we-did-something-that-broke-the-bed that's why you two ended up in compromising position on the couch this morning?"

"We watched Harry Potter and accidentally fell asleep," she replied.

Donna quirked a brow to indicate her scepticism. Felicity refrained from rolling her eyes. Although she loved her mom dearly, she admitted her mom was not always the easiest person to be with.

"Mom. Oliver is permanently bunking here, as you can see," she offered as an explanation. "It's called teamwork, Mom. I provide the roof, he provides the muscle."

* * *

It was already dark by the time Oliver returned from the Foundry. He was relieved to find the house was empty, only a short note on the kitchen table saying everyone, including William, had decided to do a little retail therapy. Felicity's idea of course. It was indeed an awkward situation, especially after Donna found them being cosy on the couch!

Feeling that he had to make himself useful, Oliver went straight to domestic mode and pulled out the vacuum out of the storeroom. He was halfway through the living room when he noticed the door handle twisted and the Smoak girls emerged with a truckload of shopping.

"I see that you've used your muscle for a good use," she told him as she whiz by the living room, noticing him cleaning the floor. "Not that I was noticing your muscles," she caught herself saying.

He chuckled at her unfiltered babble, "It's in the contract remember? Here… let me carry that." He took the shopping bags, purposely lingered his finger around hers for longer than it was necessary. He even tried to steal a few glances as he loaded the grocery into the fridge.

"Honestly, Oliver," he froze when he thought she noticed him staring. "I was just joking when we make a swap with me doing the babysitting and you become my slave," she told him while arranging a stack of juice boxes inside the cabinet. "You have done my shopping too. Twice! Why don't you sit down and relax a little." She handed him the bag of Big Belly that she had saved for him. "My mom will put William to bed. It's getting late. Here―eat this… then we can call it a day."

He stubbornly refused even when the dark circle looming under his eyes were silently protesting his decision and his face had spelt out tiredness all over it. It was hardly surprising, Oliver hardly slept at all since he had to do triple duty of being the mayor, Green Arrow and a dad (perhaps less so).

If not because Felicity dragged him and threatened to confiscate his bow and arrow, Oliver wouldn't obey dutifully to sit on the sofa, eating while watching some random reality show that happened to be displayed on the screen. Ten minutes later, he finished his dinner, and since he was adamant he couldn't sleep just yet, Felicity managed to persuade him to watch another episode of Doctor Who instead of returning to his cleaning duties.

He had fallen asleep about three minutes after the show began.

* * *

As the mattress crisis in Felicity's apartment continued, Donna ended up have to sleep elsewhere for the night. Not that she minded, especially when she got to stay away from all the flirting and affectionate gaze between two oblivious lovebirds. Not to mention the obvious-compromising-position-on-the-couch thing yesterday, which was ridiculous to say it was an innocent cuddling between friends. One couldn't ever have platonic cuddling with hot-ex-fiance. And even if Felicity insisted that they would both get into bed separately. Into the same bed, but separately. Something definitely shifted between two of them since the island.

But that would be a story for another day. Because this morning, when she let herself into her daughter's apartment, she witnessed something rather…. Amusing.

"I'd vote for firm ones!" She heard Felicity's voice rattled through the void of the open space living room. Her eyebrows jumped and curiosity piqued.

So far, Donna was pretty good at ignoring the never-ending Olicity show and pretended she didn't notice. After Oliver and Felicity's return from the mysterious trip from the mysterious island she was telling her, their interactions went from occasionally suggestive of something other than just friendship to overt, like cuddling on the couch (such as yesterday!). They gazed, exchanged smiles and found stupid reasons to touch each other… even over handling bags of groceries. In Donna's opinion, these were such an ineffectual flirting technique! (Especially when Felicity insisted they were just friends!) _Why can't they just… say it?_

"Tell me why firm ones are better," came Oliver's reply.

Donna climbed the stairs, and even with the loud clicking sound of her heels, their debate went uninterrupted. She figured that the two lovebirds were way too preoccupied with each other to even notice.

Felicity and Oliver were standing way too close to each other and grinning into each other's faces. Felicity leaned one hip into her bedside table, and Oliver loomed over her, wearing nothing but a Casual Billionaire About Town designer joggers and towel on the neck ensemble (He may have lost most of the money, but he still has all of his fancy clothes). That look, yes―that hot-gym-instructor look―really good on him. (This was where Donna learned that Oliver could be a little preening pony sometimes). And still slightly sweaty from his…―whatever that was too vulgar to mention. With the sexual tension brimming in the air, Donna couldn't help but just to eavesdrop―just a tiny little bit.

"Well," Felicity sounded thoughtful. "My sofa downstairs is firm, my car seat…―"

"So is the floor," Oliver cut her in, grinning smugly. "But you won't let me sleep on the floor."

"Floor is hard, Oliver," Felicity shot back.

"You are saying hard isn't good?" he said, brushing his hands on her knuckles. It was what Donna had observed, Oliver seemed to unable to keep his hand to himself every time Felicity was within his reach―a quick skim of his hand across her shoulder, or the barest tangle of their fingers together or a soft palm smoothing along her hair. Still, despite Donna's confrontation on the nature of their relationship, Felicity remained adamant they were just friends―who happened to co-parent and co-habit (or should she said co-sleep?) at the same time.

Felicity flushed a little, and by the soft look Oliver gave her, he seemed to find her ability to talk in unintentionally perverted circles kind of endearing. "I mean," she continued, because why leave things be when she could just keep making it worse, "hard can certainly be good in… appropriate situations. Like your chest, your abs...your...―" She pressed her palm flat against her chest, biting her lip to contain whatever other terrible clarifications her brain wanted to spit out. "My point is... I don't mind hard things, but not in bed."

Oliver was smiling that wide, tabloid-boy smile at her. "Are you...sure?" he asked, so suggestively that it kind of made Donna choked on air, her hand pressed against her mouth to stifle a cough.

"Yes.." Felicity blurted. "No… No. I mean YES!"

Donna was pretty sure she was going to pass out if he kept trying to suppress her laugh, so she plastered a sweet smile on her face and prompted, "Having a little mattress dilemma are we?"

Felicity jumped a little, and even Oliver, who usually seemed to have unexplainable-ninja-sixth-sense, flinched when he realised her presence.

"You can buy air bed," Donna smoothly suggested. "Fill it with air to suit the firmness you both require."

" _His_ bed, Mom," Felicity revised.

"Okay." _Whatever you say hon, eat those words when I caught you in that bed one of these days_. "I saw one in Amazon that can be remotely operated with your voice and connected to your smart _wearable_ ," she tapped her smartwatch and glanced towards Felicity who normally thought that her knowledge was limited to fashion items.

"Air mattresses sounds more like a glorified cot to me," Felicity snorted.

 _Did she just disagree? Impossible! I was trying to help her!_ "Excuse me?" Donna tried to mask her surprise at her daughter's disapproval.

"Sorry, I don't mean to sound that harsh," Felicity said, even when her expression didn't sound apologetic at all. "I just don't like the idea of something that potentially could lose its pressure without warning. You know one minute it was nice and firm, the next minute it was all... saggy and droopy."

Donna could only stare at Felicity, dumbfounded while Oliver looked like he was ready to kiss her (or maybe ripped her clothes?) if Donna wasn't there third-wheeling. Did Felicity honestly not hear the words coming out of her mouth? Was it possible she didn't understand that discussing beds and hardness (and her ill-equipped illustration didn't help either) was an aggressive...flirting? If not...seducing?

"That's sound familiar," Oliver murmured, with a mischevious smirk.

Donna was pretty certain this 'familiar' thing was not far from... bed-related...activity.

"Wait, it's not just hardness level. I don't like the idea of a bed that reacts every time someone moves," she explained, moving her hip in a rapid fashion to demonstrate her theory. But that was barely the idea that Oliver gained from her innocent presentation―considering the context (and the darkening of his pupils).

 _That's a very… original dance, Baby Girl._

"Right―," Oliver managed finally, his voice full of humour and maybe a little bit of lust. "I _like_ your mom's idea." And the idea that Felicity _tested_ this above-mentioned bed.

"Oliver!" Turning to face him with an entirely fake smile for Donna's benefit of, Felicity gritted out his name.

Instead of feeling intimidated, Oliver leaned even closer to Felicity, which Donna hadn't thought was possible without them actually making out, and said, "You've said _we..._ need to try new things, right?" and oh, that little pause before he said "we?" Thank goodness she wore a thick, opaque foundation.

Donna shifted on her heel, turning around because she couldn't take much more of their weird-ass mating ritual. "Let me know when it's safe to look because I came here hoping that I will get this spare room back for the night."

Again, Felicity and Oliver were paying them no attention. "Hell why air mattress, Oliver? Inflatables are only for the swimming pool. And If you think we're going to buy this fancy-voice-triggered-gizmo that you are going to ruin by a single poke of your…―," she gestured with her hands like someone wielding a weapon, and Donna wondered whether that was a secret cue between them to indicate... well… _sexy time_? "You are an insane crazy person, Mr. Queen," she said, voice low. _Ok, that's definitely too much information._

"Right you are, Ms. Smoak," he responded in kind, leaning even closer to her. "I'd say we buy this air mattress or you have to let me sleep on a hard, cold floor."

"Ms. Smoak is my mom," Felicity laughed right in his face, straightening her spine to match his height and leaning even closer. "But...Tell me―With what money are you buying this fabulous-voice-operated-air-mattress?"

Oliver didn't answer. Or more like _couldn't._ Felicity was the CEO after all. She was the one with _money_.

The oppressive sexual undercurrent to everything between Oliver and Felicity was exhausting, but Donna heartily appreciated (perhaps even proud!) watching her pixie built daughter took the hot, athletic mayor down a few notch.

"That's what I thought," Felicity answered smugly. "I'm going to buy you a bed. I with bold, capital, underline 'i' will buy you a real bed, with spring, foam and all that. A normal bed in which normal people use for….―You know what?" she interrupted herself, jabbing her finger to his _hard_ pecs. "I have decided―No fancy inflatables. You need a good rest, and for your body in peak physical condition, and that's a job for a nice, firm...―"

"It's really hot in here or is it just me?" Donna finally spoke out.

"―...mattress," Felicity finished, pausing to roll her eyes at her.

Oliver made a loud defeated sigh, a really loud and fake one. "Ok, fine," he said, "I'll let you buy me a mattress. A firm one. If you insist. But, do remember, I won't be staying here forever, so don't waste your money on that."

And there was silence. They just looked at each other for a long, charged moment. Donna knew, by the crinkling between her daughter's brow, she was fighting her impulse to say something deep and emotional, while he was fighting his impulse to tug her into his arms and perhaps kissed her senseless. But they were both stubborn like a bull, so instead of any of that, they stared at each other in a strangely heated silence.

Until Donna cleared her throat loudly and rolled her eyes, saying "Happy shopping you two, let me know when I can have the spare bedroom back."

So….Her daughter ended up doing bed-shopping with her hot ex-fiance that she claimed to have nothing but platonic feeling towards? What a shocking plot twist.

* * *

"I'm sorry for leaving you sleeping elsewhere last night," Felicity was quick to apologize to her mom after she and Oliver returned back from their bed-shopping.

Her mom waved her hand as though uninterested, but suddenly turned and asked, "So where is the new bed?" she asked, rubbing her hands together giddily.

Felicity completely didn't understand the abrupt change of mood. "Downstairs, I put it inside my office," she told her, leading the way. She headed downstairs with her mom following.

"What do you think?" Felicity said proudly, pushing the door to show her and Oliver's hunt―a twin bed, perfectly made up with white clean sheets and one pillow. "I compromised," she admitted, nonetheless still positively pleased. "This mattress is a little too hard for my liking, but it came with a lifetime-year warranty. Anyway, this is _his_ bed… so I let him buy what he wants."

Donna blinked. "Wow. It looks like… a room in an army barrack."

"Wh-what?" Felicity turned a puzzled look her way.

"It looks like an army barrack, you know… a hard mattress on the floor with boring, utilitarian sheets and a pillow," her mom said almost in a disappointed tone.

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow there," she said, puzzled.

"You want him to stay... isn't that why you compromised with a lifetime-year warranty? Hmm?"

Felicity was left speechless at her perceptive observation. She didn't realize this herself―that she had made an unconscious consideration of wanting him to stay here for good―not until her mother insightful revelation a few seconds ago.

"Felicity, honey… it was as clear as day, why don't you guys admit what's inside _here_ …?" Her mom placed her hand on her heart.

Sighing dejectedly, Felicity conceded, "Ok fine. I do still have feelings for Oliver, Mom. But I am not the one with the problem here."

"Oh, you both have problems," Donna interrupted.

"Mom…" she exasperated. When it came to digging the truth out of her love life, her mom suddenly turned from a friendly cocktail waitress from Vegas into ferocious ARGUS agent with a gun in her hand.

"By the way, how's your journey here…? And did you bring enough appropriate outfit and shoes? Because you can't do school-run in strapless dress and gold heels." Felicity was an expert having years of practice redirecting her mother to go off topic.

"Don't worry, all nicely packed inside the suitcase," Donna gestured towards the radioactive pink luggage that was parked in the living room. "Oh, my journey was fine…. Wait, it's actually great because this morning _someone_ just made me a spectacular breakfast. He made pancake and bacon that taste like," her mom made a blissful noise that she thought only suitable coming out of her bedroom. "It's a foodgasm."

"I didn't know Detective Lance could cook."

Deep creases formed on her mom's brow. "Who said I was with Quentin?"

"Is not?" Felicity's turn to have a deep frown on her face. "Then who is it?"

Their conversation was interrupted by a familiar tune from her phone. "Wait, Mom. I have to take this."

* * *

One of the perks of having Felicity as a flatmate was he could go home a little later when the duty called. Even though it hadn't been part of their initial agreement, things had turned out a bit different. Under non-verbal agreement, they were basically co-parenting, and Oliver couldn't say he didn't like it. Ever since the kidnapping in Lian Yu, he had been extremely territorial when it came to letting his son went out of his sight. But for some reason, he had no problems trusting Felicity (who, for the record wielding laptop and internet as a weapon) that she would be as protective as he would.

But somehow, as far as the whole 'being-a-dad' was concerned, Oliver felt that he hadn't made as much progress as much as he should. But time was certainly one of the issues. Despite having very little amount of sleep in order to fulfil his duty as the city's vigilante, the mayor and the father, he knew this was a losing battle. (Not to mention he was almost sleeping on his toes on one of those boring City Council's meeting which discussed something to do with sewage pipe and green energy).

While he was struggling with his daytime job, his nighttime moonlighting didn't go as smooth either. He was too busy multitasking without considering the unity of the new/old teammates and their conflicting personality.

Oliver swallowed a pang of regret when his eyes darted into the depressingly empty cave. Years ago, he wouldn't mind finding the Foundry with no one in it. Crossing out the list of names given by his dad had been his lonely project, until Diggle and Felicity joined him.

Even on the quiet evening like this, normally someone at least―Felicity or Diggle―usually would be there. Felicity couldn't, of course, not just she had a company to run while Diggle and the other team members seemed absorbed in their own personal and family issues.

Oliver sighed, he didn't want to admit out loud, but he missed their presence―their dry banter, constant bickering and their affectionate closeness.

And since when he sounded this sappy?

Slade had warned him that he needed to set his priority right, or otherwise, he was running the risk of jeopardising everything, including denying himself a place on parental chart and all it entailed and even risking losing his son. He knew Slade was right. Because if he tried to sustain this lifestyle any longer he would end up doing a bad job in each one of them….and his team, his city and his son would suffer from it. Therefore, he had to give up one of his roles.

 _But which one is that?_ Sitting in Felicity's empty living room, he ruminated.

He obviously couldn't shed his last source of real income - his job as a mayor, and now he had William, the financial need and the demand for stability become more than ever. And he couldn't give up being a father when he was hardly a dad.

"Hi." A voice behind him made him nearly jumped into a defensive stance, thankfully, his brain prevented that before he did, and only came up with a rather surprised, "Oh, hi Donna," as a reply.

"Mind if I join you?" she said, smiling at him.

Donna took the liberty sitting down on the sofa adjacent to him and politely exchanged a few pleasantries like commenting on the temperature and weather. Despite the nagging feeling that this conversation was heading into the uncomfortable zone, Oliver tried not to hold his body so rigidly and acted normal.

* * *

"Oh, I hope I didn't jeopardise William's bed routine by taking him to the mall that late," Donna said, giggling demurely. "Apart from his obsession on Lego, he is a lovely kid. How is he doing at school?"

After dropping a few superficial question, she went on to the meat of their conversation. "Oliver, mind if I ask you something? You don't have to answer it if you don't want to."

Although looking somewhat tensed, Oliver pressed his lips together and nodded. She hoped in agreement with his compliance she would get the honest truth about her question (And Oliver hadn't bolted for the exit, so everything had gone according to plan).

"What is Felicity to you?"

 _Please don't say a dead phrase that you two are friends because the way you cuddled her clearly showing you are not._

"She is… someone special. Someone who I care about...platonically―of course."

 _That cursed platonic word again._

Well yeah, the insane number of flirty gaze, sexually charged bickering and Felicity's lust-addled eyes everytime she was watching him shirtless (perhaps her brain was so fried by his hard chest)―all just _scream_ platonic friendship. Not to mention how many times Felicity made those unfiltered innuendos about his physical property (and certain hardness!), a clear sign that she was _not_ attracted to him, but that was just Felicity, wasn't it?

She gave him a speculative look. "Look, I'm not as bright as Felicity, but I can tell by the way you look at her, those same feeling you kept for her years ago is still there. And I can safely say that feeling was _not_ unidirectional," she said. "And… just to clarify, I am her mom, so I have a right for a blatant rooting interest in her romantic prospects.

Oliver blinked like he was trying to process her sentence. But he didn't look surprised at all―like he had known this all along. He acknowledged (non-verbally) that he had some romantic feeling towards Felicity and he _knew_ she reciprocated his feeling.

"That is…" he breathed heavily, "...very hard to control. I'm sorry if I….I am sending the wrong signal."

 _Oh yes, handsome ex-billionaire can be such a dork sometimes._

"I reassure you it is unintentional," he added.

… _.and a wuss._

"Oliver," Donna said patiently. "I hope you don't mind me saying this to you," she paused and looked at him, watching the flash of emotion played on his face."Why are you fooling yourself? Why are you doing _this_ to you and Felicity when it's easier to be honest with each other?" she demanded. Because that part wasn't entirely clear to her.

His face suddenly reflected the look of guilt and regret―tangled together in one big confused mess. He seemed to lost for words.

"It's not that simple," he replied.

 _Yeah, I bet it's not._

"I heard from Felicity some nasty things that happened to you when you were on the island, and some of the hard choices you had made for you to survive," she told him.

"I know my life―my crucible perhaps nothing compared to yours―but I know how it felt to make those hard choices and carrying its consequences and guilt months or years after…. Like my choice to leave Noah, Felicity's father. I carried the guilt of thinking that I've robbed my daughter a chance of fatherly love….and I resent myself for failing to give her a normal, functioning, happy family. But the worst was the regret of not addressing those feelings earlier. And I've wasted enough time drowning in self-punishing thought and not being happy. Meeting Quentin had made me realized that." She reached Oliver's hand and patted it gently. "And the last thing I want for you… or Felicity is to carry the same regret that I did. Because hearts are often broken by things left unsaid, deeds left undone."

Oliver looked positively broken. His broad shoulder slumped, and the frown between his brows was deep. "I never meant to hurt her. I mean, it's my fault that Felicity broke off the engagement a year ago, I shouldn't have kept William existence a secret, not from her. It's just… it's always complicated for me―where I came from and what had happened. It clouded my judgement," Oliver elaborated vaguely. Felicity wasn't joking when she said Oliver's favourite word was _complicated_. "If you know what I mean."

Honestly, Donna had trouble understanding him. But somehow, she knew he's not intentionally drawing out the process of breaking her heart, of leaving her. It's just... the way he operated.

"So, you love her?"

"I do." He's not lying, she could easily tell, and she didn't know if that makes everything better or worse when he added, "Felicity is everything that I want. But sometimes, I thought part of me was tainted and unredeemable forever. "

"But that's where you are wrong," she told him. "Oliver, I hated that something had happened to you―or a whole bunch of things had happened to you that made you jaded. Scarred for life. Ok, you've hurt her once before. But keeping your distance from Felicity won't serve as a penance for your mistake."

"I have different ideas of what I deserve." There was a rush of sadness as he said it.

He shrugged and exhaled resignedly before adding, "But that doesn't really matter because the more important question is what Felicity deserves… she is a woman with a great heart, even greater soul. The last thing she deserves as a reward for her big heart is a damaged man like me."

 _This is like talking to a brick wall. A big, dumb brick wall._

Sure, Donna remembered of all the philandering, binge-drinking and partying news of Oliver Queen in the tabloids years ago before the Gambit tragedy flipped his life around. He wasn't a good man to start with. But she also thought maybe he was a bit hard on himself. _Can't he see that he has become a better person with Felicity in his life? Why can't he let her heal him and be better instead of bitter?_

But she didn't voice out her thought, instead simply asking, "So what are you going to do?"

"I'll move out once I find a suitable place to live. And I… I'll continue to be her friend…."

 _So you are just going to be content admiring her from afar?_ It took Donna all her will-power not to do a dramatic eye-roll in front of him.

 _Well, good luck with that, Mr. Darcy._


End file.
